The Truth Will Out
by evgrrl09
Summary: Emily is hiding a dark secret in her past that not even Hotch knows about, and it leads her into a dangerous game of cat and mouse with an old enemy. Meanwhile, two best friends begin a torrid affair that threatens to tear both of them apart. Partly AU, partly "what if?" Morgan/Garcia and Hotch/Prentiss.
1. Drink the Pain Away - Going Home

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Here's my newest story. The pairings are Morgan/Garcia (of course!) and Hotch/Prentiss. This is going to be my first full length story with Emily and Hotch as a co-starring pairing. Half of this story will be an AU retelling of one of the most famous CM story lines, and the other half will just be a "what-if" type situation. I hope you'll like it :)**

Penelope checked the clock in her office for the twelfth time that evening. The team would be returning any minute from their most recent case in Spokane, Washington, and it had been draining on all of them. Even Penelope, who remained home in Quantico most cases, felt worn down after this one involving a pedophile who kidnapped, molested, then finally strangled his victims.

But she knew someone who would be feeling much worse.

As soon as the clock hit nine, she leapt from her seat and started towards the door. Her heels clicked on the ground as she hurried down the hall of the BAU. Just as she predicted, her whole team was exiting the elevators. Weary expressions covered their faces, none of them smiling even as they saw her. She looked at all of them in concern.

"Did you fly safe, superheroes?" she blurted, her eyes falling on each and every one of them. She looked at Rossi and Hotch, the staunch leaders of their team, both of them looking ten years older than they actually were; Emily appeared as though she were ready to drop onto the floor; JJ and Reid's personalities had deflated like balloons.

Derek — as she expected — looked the worst.

His eyes lacked their usual twinkle. Every part of him was downtrodden, as if he was being weighed down by a ton of wet cement. His gaze drifted up to Penelope's, and her heart broke. This case had affected him the exact way she excepted it would.

"Yeah, we did, Garcia," Hotch said tiredly, glancing down at his phone. He sighed. "Well, that was a text from Strauss. We get the next three days off." His own eyes drifted to Emily's. "Prentiss, do you want to talk about what Noah's schedule will be for the break? I'd like to see him if it's alright."

Emily nodded. "Well, I'm sure Noah would like to see his father," she murmured tiredly. "Let's go talk in your office." She waved to all of them as she and her ex-husband left them to discuss arrangements for their son.

Derek silently slid away from the group, thinking no one would notice him slinking away. But Penelope did, and she followed after him without hesitation. Before she reached his office, he shut the door behind him. She heard the lock slide into place and sighed.

_You're not getting rid of me that easy, Derek Morgan_, she thought, chewing on her lip in determination.

Knocking sharply on the door, she waited for an answer that didn't come. "Morgan?" she called softly. "Morgan, open the door, please." No answer still. She sighed and lowered her voice so it was quieter. "Derek, you know I'm not going anywhere until you open the door. You don't want me calling your wife do you? Or I could be worse and try Fran if —"

That caused him to open the door. Whether or not it was her threat to call Savannah or Fran, she didn't know. All she knew was she was glad when he opened the door.

"You know how to leave a girl waiting, Baby Boy," she joked, placing her hands on her hips. When his expression didn't change, she sighed and motioned for him to go back in his office. Silently, he retreated inside, and she closed the door behind them. "You wanna talk about it?"

Clearing his throat, Morgan rubbed his forehead and leaned against his desk. "I'll be honest," he muttered, "all I really want is a drink."

"Well, do you have anything at home?" she asked. "Go home, open a beer, cuddle with your wife." She tried to smile, but it fell short.

He shook his head and sighed. "Savannah's not home," he grumbled. "She's at work. But even if she wasn't, I wouldn't talk with her about this. She doesn't like hearing about stuff like this."

Penelope frowned. She knew her best friend's wife wasn't particularly fond of the details of the cases they had to work, but Savannah should have known after being married to Derek for two years that he would need support after cases like this. He needed that after something that hit so close to home for him. She liked Savannah — the woman was helping plan parts of Penelope's wedding — but she didn't understand parts of their relationship at all.

Snapping her fingers, she took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "Okay, I have an idea then!" she said. "Come with me. _We're _going to get a drink. My treat."

Derek's brows shot to the top of his head. "Baby Girl, I appreciate it," he said. "But it's already after nine. Your fiancé is probably wondering if he'll get to see you tonight."

She shook her head. "Lucky for us, Sam is working late, too," she said, grinning brightly. "So I'm completely free."

He gave her a doubtful look and sighed. "Alright," he begrudged. He gave her nose a tweak. "Give me a few minutes to finish up stuff here, and we'll go grab a drink."

Smiling, Penelope moved to go to the door, but before she could, Derek pulled her into a crushing embrace. Her eyes went wide, but she wrapped her arms around his wide frame almost immediately. She inhaled the musky scent of him and sighed. His arms around her were full of fatigue, and she wanted nothing more than to take all that pain away for him and shoulder it herself.

He held her for another minute before releasing her. "I'll see you soon," she murmured, patting his shoulder before exiting the room.

Fifteen minutes later, Penelope exited her office to find Derek walking down the hall toward her. She smiled and adjusted her bag on her shoulder. "Ready to go?" she asked, offering him her arm.

He took it and smiled, kissing her temple. "Whenever you are," he murmured tiredly.

They arrived at their local bar twenty minutes later. Each of them took their separate cars so they could go home when they needed. As they settled into a corner table, drinks in hand, Penelope studied her best friend carefully. He stared at his whiskey, tracing the rim of the glass with the tip of his index finger.

"They were all eight or nine years old," he muttered, not looking up from the amber liquid. "Just little kids, Garcia."

Penelope lifted her glass and took a sip of her Manhattan. "I know, honey," she murmured. "But you saved Kenton Harris. You got him back to his parents safe and sound, and now he can grow up."

"But this shit is always gonna stick with him," Morgan growled. "Every day of his life is gonna be haunted by this!" He shook his head bitterly and lifted his glass to take a long gulp. "You don't forget something like this. He's gonna need lots of help. "

"And he'll get it," Penelope assured him. "He's got people who love him, who care about him. They'll make sure he's got a support system."

Derek shook his head. "People you love don't always understand your demons," he grumbled. "Even if they should try."

"Is that why you don't talk to Savannah about this?" she asked, cocking a brow. "Because you think she won't understand? Derek, she's your wife. If you think she can't understand, then there's something going on in your relationship you need to work out. You need to talk to her about this." She sighed and looked at him softly, sympathetically. "She's your wife. You should talk to her."

"Savannah doesn't need to worry about —"

Penelope snorted. "Don't give me that," she scolded. "You married her, Morgan. When you said your vows, you made a promise that you would be honest with her."

"Baby, we didn't do any special sort of vows, and I don't think I remember anything about telling her about having to tell her my deep, dark, scary secrets," he joked, sipping his whiskey again. "I didn't have anything to say that wasn't cliché or average." He laughed. "I could probably write incredibly unique vows for, say, _you. _But for Savannah…it just seems like there's nothing there."

Shaking her head, Penelope narrowed her eyes at him. "You know damn well you should be talking to her," she grumbled, ignoring his comment about her. They said things like that all the time to one another, harmlessly flirting. They made sure Sam and Savannah didn't know about it — who would want their significant other getting chummy with a male of female friend in that way? — but they still did it.

He looked up at her and shot her a foxy grin. "Now why would I talk to her when I could just talk to you?" he asked, leaning forward to tweak her nose.

"You didn't marry _me_," she pointed out. "You married Savannah."

Sighing, he leaned back in his seat and nodded. "No, I know," he said, rubbing his face tiredly. "I love her, I just…I don't feel like I can talk to her about everything. If I'm being honest with myself, I would say we won't make it to five years. That's horrible to say, but it's how it is."

"Oh, _mon cher_," Penelope sighed, finishing off her drink. "You don't need to tell her everything. Just the important stuff."

"And you tell Sam everything?" Derek retorted. "Marriage isn't easy for anyone in the bureau. Look at Hotch and Prentiss. They were married for just two years before they called it quits. And their situation is worse because they have a kid."

As Penelope opened her mouth to point out that Hotch and Emily were different people than Morgan and Savannah, her cellphone rang. The ringtone was Sam's. Raising a finger to Derek, she answered the call.

As soon as she put the phone to her ear, Sam's voice filled her ear. "Penelope? You there?"

"Hey pumpkin," she chirped. "Are you home yet?"

"I just got here. I was wondering if you were on your way yet," he replied. The sound of a cork getting popped sounded in the background. She sighed. Apparently Sam was wanting to have a romantic glass of wine before bed.

Biting her lip, she looked at Derek with concern. "Oh, honey, I don't think I'm gonna be back for…" Her voice halted when Derek started shaking his head. "Hang on, Sam." She put her hand over the mouth piece. "Baby Boy, I can stay. Sam can —"

Derek cut her off and put his hand over hers. "Go home," he said. "Sam can't get any hanky panky if his girl isn't around." He winked.

Looking at him doubtfully, Penelope nodded reluctantly. "I'm leaving just now," she said, returning her attention to Sam. "We're done with our drinks."

"I'll see you soon then!" he exclaimed excitedly. "I love you."

"Love you, too," she murmured with a smile before hanging up. She sighed and put her phone back in her bag. Looking at Derek once more, she took his hand and gave it a squeeze, looking at him in the eye. "I'm going home now, but I want you to call me if you need me."

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I appreciate it, Baby Girl," he murmured.

They stared at one another for a long moment, unblinking. She smiled again and coughed. "Well, I'm going now," she said, rising to her feet. She placed several dollar bills on the table for the drinks. "I'll see you in a few days."

As she started away from the table, he called out to her, "Goodnight, Penelope."

Turning around, Penelope flashed him her classic grin, hoping it might alleviate some of his pain. "Night, Handsome," she called back before heading to her car to return home to her loving fiancé.

XXXXX

Emily stopped her car in her home's driveway at approximately ten. She and Aaron managed to work out the schedule for when Noah would see his father in a brief period of time. She managed to get home before midnight where she could kiss her son goodnight.

As she entered her home through the kitchen-side garage door, the sound of little feet pounding across hardwood floors reached her ears. She sighed. Somehow her son's nanny didn't think getting a six year old to bed by ten was necessary tonight.

"Mom!" Noah cried, appearing around the corner into the kitchen.

A smile covered Emily's face as Noah ran toward her and threw his arms around her waist. She kissed the top of his head. "Hey buddy," she murmured, releasing him to drop her bag on the counter. "Wanna tell me why you're up still?" She tilted his chin upwards so he was looking up at her.

Everything about Noah screamed that he was Aaron Hotchner's son. The two shared virtually everything about their appearances, save for the eyes, which Noah had inherited from Emily. But when she looked at him, all she saw was her ex-husband. Even his smile was the same as Aaron's, albeit a wider version of it.

"Elise let me stay up 'just this once' so I could see you!" he chirped. "I told her I wanted to see you before I go to sleep, and she said it was okay just this once because I haven't seen you in a week."

As if sensing her name being said, Noah's nanny, Elise entered the kitchen, zipping her coat up and adjusting her purse on her shoulder. She smiled hastily. "Hi, Emily," she said. "I'm glad you're here! I've got to run. My boyfriend just called to tell me that his car broke down, so he needs me to come pick him up."

Emily smiled and ruffled Noah's hair. "Alright, Elise," she said, suppressing a yawn. "I'll call you when we're going out of town next. We got the next three days off, though, so you get them off, too."

"Okay, cool," Elise said. "Sorry I let him stay up this late. I wanted to —"

Holding up her hand, Emily shook her head. "Elise, it's okay," she said with a laugh. "I'll put him to bed. We'll see you later."

Once the nanny was gone, Emily plastered a faux stern expression on her face and pointed to the archway that led to the stairs. "Up the stairs, you," she teased, kicking her shoes off. "You need to get to bed. You've got a busy day tomorrow."

Noah frowned. "Mom, what are you talking about?" he asked as she hustled him toward the stairs. "Tomorrow is Saturday. I don't have to do anything tomorrow but watch cartoons."

Arching a brow, she grinned as they walked up the stairs. "Oh? You'd rather watch cartoons than see your dad?" she asked.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Noah turned and looked at his mother, eyes wide with excitement. "Dad's picking me up tomorrow?" he exclaimed, a broad smile spreading across his face. "_Really_?"

Emily laughed and leaned down to plant a kiss on the top of his head. "Yup, your dad will be here to get you at nine," she said. "He's gonna take you to get breakfast, and you'll do whatever else he has planned for you."

"Did he tell you what we're going to do?" Noah blabbered on as he plopped down on his bed. He started to slide into his covers, burrowing in the blankets so only his head bearing his silly smile was visible.

"No, I've got no idea what he's got planned," Emily said, sitting on the edge of her son's bed. _He doesn't always tell me what's on his mind_, she added silently to herself as she thought briefly about Aaron. _He never has. _Her eyes drifted to Noah's night table where a two photos sat: one of him and Emily at Morgan's wedding two years ago, and the other of him and Aaron from just two months ago at the zoo. Aaron looked so normal, a smile on his face as Noah sat on his shoulders in front of the giraffe enclosure.

There had been a time when she thought she saw that in Aaron, the love and happiness that the smile portrayed, but now she didn't see it anymore. It was what led them to divorce.

Noah sighed. "Oh, okay," he yawned. Out of nowhere, exhaustion appeared in his eyes. It was as if getting into his blankets sparked the need for sleep in him.

Emily moved a piece of hair from Noah's face and sighed. "You're gonna need a haircut soon, little man," she remarked.

He gave her a sleepy smile. "I hate haircuts," he complained, yawning as his eyes started to drift shut.

She smiled, leaned forward, and kissed the top of his head. "I know you do," she murmured. "I love you, Noah. Sleep well."

"Love you, too, Mom," he whispered.

Emily rose to her feet and crossed the room to shut the lights off. Before shutting the lights off, she gazed at her son one last time. His breathing sounded on the verge of sleep, and she sighed. His excitement from before had been mere adrenaline; he would be sound asleep in a matter of moments.

After changing out of her work clothes and pouring a glass of wine, Emily plopped herself onto the living room couch. Her head tilted backwards against the cushions, forcing her gaze to the ceiling. She sighed as she sipped the dark red wine, letting the liquid slide down her throat and warm her belly.

What the hell was she going to do tomorrow? She would be on her own. Maybe she could organize an afternoon with JJ and Garcia. Or an evening. Either way, she wanted alcohol or caffeine.

As she sat with her wine, she closed her eyes, leaving herself to the mercy of her thoughts. Somehow, yet again, they drifted to Aaron. She hated that her mind kept punishing her by returning her there, but it happened unconsciously.

Her marriage of two years to Aaron Hotchner had been a happy one until the last six months of it when they realized they couldn't sustain themselves on secrets and emotions not being shown. Hotch complained she didn't tell him enough about her past to the point where he felt like he knew nothing about her.

She never told him it was to protect him. Corpses lurked in her closet that no one wanted to know about. Open and gaping wounds still lingered within her from the darkness that remained in blotches on her conscience.

Her eyelids felt heavy against her eyes, and gradually she began to doze off.

_"__He's gonna look just like you, ya know?" Emily said with a smile as she and Aaron stood over their son's crib. Six month old Noah lay on his back, his eyes closed and his little tongue poking out of his mouth. "I noticed that when he first came out of me."_

_Aaron smiled one of his rare, small smiles and wrapped an arm around his wife's waist. "Well the first thing _I_ noticed about him was that he's got _your _eyes," he said in a hushed tone so as not to wake Noah. "Same shape, same color, all of that."_

_Shrugging, Emily leaned into him and sighed. "Ah, well," she said wistfully. "Most people won't notice that the same way you do, though."_

_"__Rossi did," Aaron pointed out._

_"__Rossi's a profiler," Emily returned. "Of course _he'll _notice."_

_Hotch kissed the top of her head. "Maybe after this guy's a few years older we'll have another one, and he or she will look exactly like you," he remarked._

_For a moment, Emily's vision went blank. A small boy's image filled her mind, but it wasn't Noah. It was someone entirely different, a curly-haired blonde boy with large blue eyes that stared at her with curiosity and a gleam of affection. All at once guilt washed over her, and she forced down a lump in her throat._

_"__Emily?"_

_Blinking several times, Emily's vision returned to her. She looked directly over at Aaron and cocked her head to the side. "Yeah?"_

_"__You okay?" he asked. "You got quiet all of the sudden."_

_Smiling tightly, she nodded. "Yeah, sorry," she murmured. "Just spaced out, I guess."_

_He nodded, concern flashing in his eyes for a moment. "Okay," he finally said, his lips finding her temple again. "I love you."_

_She turned and took his face in her hands, pressing her lips to his. "I love you, too," she whispered, resting her forehead against his._

_But that night, when they were laying in their bed beneath the blankets and his arms were wrapped tightly around her, the young boy consumed her dreams, slowly slipping away from her into blackness as tears streamed down her face._

Sitting up abruptly, Emily realized her breath was coming in deep gasps. Her wine was miraculously still in her hand and not spilled all over the couch, but she felt nothing but sorrow. Leaning forward, she set the wine glass down on the coffee table before putting her head in her hands. How could her evening go from thinking about Aaron to thinking about…no, she couldn't think about him. Her heart would only feel sore, and she would be kept from sleep all night.

Sighing, her eyes drifted to the clock and she smacked her forehead. She'd fallen asleep until one o'clock.

"Time for bed, Prentiss," she muttered, getting to her feet and banishing the previous thoughts from her head. Padding to the kitchen, she tossed back the rest of her wine before sticking the glass in the dishwasher and trudging off to bed.

**So here's the first chapter. As you can tell, Jack is NOT character in this story as Haley and Hotch were never married in the past for the purpose of this tale. Please review if you have a moment! I'd love to hear your thoughts :)**


	2. Sandalwood - A Hard Night

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thanks so much for the response, guys! My Christmas break is coming up and with the end of the semester that means PAPERS (*grrrrrs*)! I'll post as much as I can, but soon as I'm home for the holidays, I'll have much more time to work on this. Sorry about the delays in these!**

Rarely did Aaron Hotchner find himself in a situation he found uncomfortable, but going to his ex-wife's house never ceased to make him tense.

_I'll just get Noah and get out, _he thought to himself. He didn't want to linger here any longer than he had to. Seeing Emily outside of the BAU always felt strange, even if they'd once been married.

Aaron exited his car to go up the walk to the porch and knock on Emily's door — the door he once called _their _door — and waited patiently for her or Noah to open it. After a mere few moments, the door opened to reveal Emily. He observed her as she stood tall in her dark jeans that hugged her hips and a casual V-neck. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to meet her eyes.

"Hello, Emily," he managed past the lump in his throat. Part of him felt excited to see her like this, casual and in their former home; the other part of him wanted nothing more than to retreat within himself where he wouldn't have to face her.

She simply nodded to him and stepped aside to allow him inside. Crossing the threshold, he caught a whiff of her sandalwood perfume — or maybe it was just lotion. Either way it didn't matter; the smell of her invaded him and refused to retreat. His eyes flicked around in the atrium for any sign of Noah so he could escape the house…and Emily.

"Did you manage to get some sleep last night?" she asked, breaking the tense silence. "Or did you stay late to do paperwork?"

"I managed to get back to my apartment around one," he said, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I tossed and turned for a bit, but I fell asleep around three."

She bit her lip and crossed her arms over her chest. She looked just as awkward as he felt. "Oh," she mumbled. "Well…I guess that's good."

Both of them refused to meet the others eyes. Aaron remembered a time when this wasn't how it went at all, when they were able to talk with each other and stare into one another's eyes for hours on end. Now…nothing. All because they realized she was keeping too many secrets and he didn't show enough emotion to sustain a marriage.

They managed to maintain a professional relationship, one that would not disturb the dynamic of the team. He remembered when he first announced he and Emily would be seeking a divorce, and Garcia begged and pleaded with Emily to not leave the team.

_We're a family!_ he'd heard her say when she thought she and Emily were alone. _You can't leave me…you can't leave _us_!_

How wrong Garcia had been. They weren't a family, at least he and Emily weren't anymore. They no longer shared the same home, the same bed, the same last name. All that remained of their marriage and life together was Noah.

That didn't mean he didn't _want _to look at her, though. Even if he'd dated other women since they'd divorced, Emily still triumphed over all of them as the most beautiful woman in the world to him. He found her just as sensual, just as enchanting as he did the day she first stumbled into his office with her box of overflowing desk supplies and files in her arms. No one else held the ability to cloud his senses with even just their scent, no one had the same way of gazing at him and being able to scrutinize every last detail of what he was feeling and why.

"So…" Her voice came out awkwardly, stilted. He kept his eyes trained on the floor, though. He couldn't find it in himself to look at her for fear he'd break his façade and look excited to be gazing at her. "What do you plan to do with Noah today?"

Rubbing the top of his head, Aaron shrugged. "Breakfast out, the park for a few hours, a movie with dinner at the apartment," he rambled. "Nothing over the top."

"Okay," she murmured. "What time do you plan on having him back tomorrow?"

Finally, he looked up at her and met her eyes. Both of them tensed up, but they held one another's gaze at least. Aaron coughed. "What time do you want him back?" he asked. "I've got nothing going on tomorrow, so I was thinking —"

"He's got homework, too," she reminded him, placing her hands on her hips.

He nodded, his neck stiff. "I realize that. I can help him with it in the morning or early afternoon and then get him back here before dinner."

Emily stared at him another moment, but eventually nodded her acquiescence. "Sounds good," she said. "I —"

Before she could finish though, the sound of footsteps thundering down the steps interrupted her.

"_Dad_!"

Aaron looked away from Emily and in the direction of his son's overjoyed voice as Noah leapt of the bottom stair. He smiled as Noah grinned brightly at him and threw his arms around his father's waist.

"Hey, buddy," he said, hugging Noah back and ruffling his hair. "How've you been?"

Noah shrugged. "Eh, I've been _bored _while you guys were gone," he said. "You guys need to not go away for so long next time. Elise is alright to hang out with, but not as cool as you guys are."

"We'll try not to," Aaron assured him, even though he knew he couldn't make that promise with the jobs he and Emily had. Nodding to the backpack on his son's back, he arched a brow. "Got all your homework in there? Your mom and I want you to get it done with me tomorrow morning before you come back home here."

Huffing, Noah nodded. "Yeah," he muttered. "I've got it all…even though I don't want to do it."

"Tough luck, champ," Emily said with a laugh. She opened her arms for Noah to go in and hug her. Gladly and without hesitation, he threw his arms around her waist and squeezed her tightly. Emily made an "_Oof_!" noise and grinned. "Alright mister, you have a good time with Dad, okay? Try to behave." She tweaked his nose and nudged him toward Aaron. When her eyes drifted up to Aaron's one last time, the smile faded, blinking away as if looking at him pained her physically. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Aaron swallowed hard and nodded. He needed to get out of this house as soon as possible "Yeah," he mumbled, placing a hand on Noah's shoulder to guide him out the door. "See you."

And without another word, he motioned for his son to go out the door. As soon as they were outdoors, and his son was babbling on, Aaron couldn't help but think of how grateful he was to have left the sandalwood palace that was Emily's home.

The home that once belonged to both of them and where they'd been a family.

XXXXX

"Dad?" Noah asked as Aaron they were tossing a baseball around. He caught the ball in his mitt and threw it back to his father. "I have a question."

Aaron arched a brow and caught the ball effortlessly. It was early afternoon, the sun shining down on the Hotchner boys as they played catch. They'd been running around all morning, and Noah was beginning to look exhausted from all his endless dashing. All afternoon had been pleasant, no thoughts of work or Emily invading Aaron's mind. He motioned for his son to sit with him on the scratchy wood of the bench.

"What's up, bud?" Aaron asked, placing his hand on his son's shoulder. Noah looked down at the mitt in his lap and sighed. When he didn't immediately respond, Aaron grew concerned. "You okay there? You got real quiet all of the sudden."

Noah bit his lip. "Why do you and Mom not smile at each other?" he asked. When Aaron didn't respond immediately, Noah elaborated. "I mean, I know _you _don't smile at most people, but you do sometimes. And Mom smiles at lots of people — Miss Penelope makes her smile _all _the time! — but you never look at each _other_ and smile." He looked up at Aaron and eyed him expectantly.

Aaron sat silently for a moment. How could he accurately explain this to his six year old? "Well, buddy," he began. "Your mom and I used to be close, but…that changed. So we split apart." He smiled and ruffled Noah's lengthening hair. "So we smile at each other a little less because we aren't close anymore. But we both love you so much. No one matters more to me than you, and I know that goes for your mom, too."

"Real?" Noah asked with a hesitant smile.

Nodding, Aaron kissed his son's head. "Yup. Real." With a heavy heart, he sighed heavily and added, "You really need a haircut. You know that?"

Noah crossed his arms over his chest and grumbled, "Mom said the same thing."

Aaron knew he should have chuckled at that, but he couldn't. The idea that he and Emily thought the same exact thing made him feel deflated. He wanted to feel alive and happy again with her, but all he felt like right now was giving up.

XXXXX

Derek sat across the table from Savannah, his eyes trained downward on his food as his wife babbled on. He picked up his glass, his arms mechanical as he took a drink of water. His eyes drifted up to meet hers, and he forced his neck to move in a nod. Savannah's words filtered through one ear, but by the time they reached his brain, he had no concept of what she was saying.

Right now, though, he caught part of it: she was talking about redecorating their bedroom, and she was stuck on the subject of olive green paint.

His mind drifted away from the conversation, bobbing from topic to topic like a boat bouncing off waves. He wondered what Penelope was doing at that moment. After their drink, he'd remained at the bar for another hour, staring aimlessly into his drinks that came and went. Somehow, her presence had kept him grounded, and when he returned home, that grounded feeling abandoned him.

He'd woken up from one of his classic nightmares later that night. Afterwards, he proceeded to call Penelope.

He got nothing but her voicemail, then returned to bed to do nothing but toss and turn. The rest of the night he fought against the onslaught of his childhood memories that plagued him while his wife was at work.

Not that she would have been much help anyway; Savannah said she needed to give him space when he had his nightmares.

"What do you think of that?" Savannah's voice broke through his haze of thinking of the previous night.

Derek blinked several times after taking a bite of his chicken. "Green sounds great, honey," he said. He took a sip of his water. When Savannah pursed her lips at him, he arched a brow. "Something wrong with me agreeing with you?"

She sighed. "Derek, I didn't ask about paint colors," she said. "I asked what you thought about us going on a double date with Sam and Penelope tomorrow. There's some wedding stuff I wanted to talk to them about."

He could have smacked his forehead. This wasn't the first time she'd caught him not listening to her completely. But the idea she'd asked about was a great one to him. He wanted spend time with his best friend, even if it meant they were sitting through wedding preparations.

Looking directly at his wife again, he nodded. "Oh, sure!" he said, hoping his eagerness was as tapered down as he wanted it to be.

Savannah smiled. "Okay, awesome!" she said, shaking off the fact he was barely paying attention to her. "I'll call Penelope and set something up with her! Maybe we can try La Riviera. Penelope was telling me she was thinking about that for the rehearsal dinner!"

Derek smiled tightly and took a conservative sip of his water. "Sounds good," he said. Wiping his mouth with his napkin, he changed the subject to something he actually had interest in. He could care less about what Penelope's rehearsal dinner was like, even though he was her man of honor. He would do anything to keep her happy, but fancy French restaurants were not his area of expertise. "So I keep forgetting to ask you…have you talked to my mother at all about her coming to visit for our summer vacation?"

Almost as if he'd struck her with a scalding cattle prod, Savannah sat up straight and tensed. Crossing her arms over her chest, she met his eyes and gave a heavy sigh. "Derek," she murmured. "You know how my relationship with your mother is…"

Leaning forward, Derek rubbed his forehead tiredly. His wife's relationship with his mother absolutely exhausted him. They loathed each other more than the BAU once loathed Erin Strauss before the years leading up to her death when she began to support them.

_Derek, you're my son and I love you more than anything in the world, _Fran told him once. _But that woman isn't right for you. Why couldn't you have married someone like Penelope? _There's _a woman who would be deserving of my boy!_

For the umpteenth time during that conversation, Derek was forced to — rather awkwardly — reiterate that he and Penelope were just friends, and there was nothing romantic between them.

"Savannah…" he began wearily.

"What did you expect, Derek?" she interrupted. "Your mother _hates _me! I have no idea what I did to make her feel that way, but Jesus Christ, I can't get along with her to save my life."

He shook his head and used his napkin to wipe his mouth. "Savannah, you have to _try, _okay?" he muttered. "She's my mother. She's one of the most important people in my life. I want you to get along."

"There is no way I'll ever get along with her if she keeps acting like this!" Savannah growled. "You know, I think it's her fault you don't want to go through with the fertility treatments! It's like she doesn't want grandkids. Hell, she can't even be supportive of the fact we're even _having _the problems with fertility!"

Derek groaned internally. Not this argument again. For the whole year and half after they realized Savannah would need heavy fertility treatments if they wanted to have children, Savannah convinced herself that Fran was pleased over the fact she wasn't getting grandchildren.

"Baby, you _know _that's not true," Derek muttered. "How could you say that about her?"

Rising to her feet, Savannah dropped her napkin on her half empty plate and snarled, "Because she hates me, even though you've told her a million times we love each other and are happy." She paused as she picked up her plate. "You know, sometimes I feel like Penelope is more supportive than you and your mother are! Maybe I should ask her to talk some sense into you!"

Then she stormed off, leaving Derek alone at the kitchen table with his food getting cold in front of him.

Leaning back in his chair, he closed his eyes and took a moment to bask in the bittersweet silence. What the hell happened to his life that he felt more miserable than happy most of the time?

Sighing, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. The screen lit up and he pressed Penelope's speed dial. He lifted the phone to his ear and listened to the droning ring. It rang several times and internally he knew she wouldn't answer. It was likely she and Sam were having a romantic dinner of some sort.

Sure enough, he got her cheerful voicemail.

_Hey, you've got Garcie! Leave me a message after that annoying beep!_

As he listened to her voice and the following beep, he debated whether or not he should leave a message. In the end, he decided not to trouble her with a stupid fight he'd had with his wife. He would be alright just listening to the simple words on her message. Heaving another sigh, he rose to his feet to take his dishes to the kitchen before plopping himself on the living room couch to watch whatever was on ESPN.

XXXXX

_Somehow, his wife's hands caressing his stomach felt exhilarating, causing tingles to tickle all over his body. It had been awhile since Savannah's touch managed to arouse him. His eyes were closed and her arms were wrapped around him from behind so he couldn't see her face. Kisses began to dot the skin of his shoulder, gently moving up to his neck, then to his ear to nibble on it gently. A smile sparked on his face, and he opened his eyes so when he turned around he could see her._

_However, when he turned over so he was facing her, it wasn't Savannah at all. He lay completely still, shock racing through him as he stared into the doe-like eyes of his best friend. A coy smile was playing upon her face, and she bit her bottom lip. Tracing her fingers up his chest, she cupped his face in both hands and kissed him, whispering sweet words in his ear between their mouths touching._

"_Touch me, Hot Stuff," she purred, her voice vibrating through his whole body like a bass drum._

"_Oh, hell yes!" he growled, pulling her tighter too him. She giggled and rolled on top of him, their naked bodies meshing together just perfectly. His blood was on fire, coursing through him like molten lava across black rock. But he didn't care. This was too pleasurable to halt._

"_Penelope…" he groaned as her touch proceeded to make him harder, more —_

Derek snapped abruptly awake, his breathing labored and his skin sweaty. He looked around wildly in the dark until his eyes came in contact with the clock. _ 2:18 am. _Beside him was his wife, her own breathing quiet as her chest rose and fell. She remained sound asleep.

It was all the better; below the sheets he was hard as a rock, painfully so. Tossing the covers back, he stumbled to the bathroom in the dark. He couldn't have light on or Savannah would surely wake up.

He didn't want to explain to her he was hard because he'd been having a dream about having sex with Penelope.

As Derek stood in his bathroom, the door locked behind him, he stared at himself in the mirror and splashed cold water on his face. That had been the most erotic dream he'd ever had. Where the hell had it come from, though? Sure, he'd always found Penelope to be an incredibly gorgeous woman, but he was _married_. He should be having sex dreams about Savannah….

In fact, he should have been having sex with Savannah period.

Looking down at his rampant erection that was pressing against his boxers, Derek sighed and went to start the shower. He needed to take care of this fast.

But even as he stood beneath the cold stream of water, his eyes closed tightly as he pumped his hand up and down his member, nothing could banish the thought of Penelope's dusky rose mouth being against his.

Eventually he gave up fighting the battle against the memory of the dream; it was no use. And just like that, as he allowed the feeling of her body to wash over him, he began to come in thick, voluptuous spurts against the shower wall with his best friend as the only woman filling his mind.


	3. Odd Glances - An Old Friend

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thanks so much for the reviews guys! All four of them are going through a lot of stuff, so hang in there. Most of the chapters will bounce back and forth between the men and the women's POVs…key word is ****_most, _****though. We're probably going to end up with more Emily and Penelope chapters. That being said, here's one from the ladies' POV!**

"So you're all going out to dinner tonight?" Emily asked as she, JJ, and Penelope walked down the sidewalk of their favorite shopping street. It was Sunday morning, and the three of them decided they needed a day to bask in the sun and window-shop with cups of steaming coffee in their hands.

Penelope, sipping her latte, nodded and said, "Yup. Savannah called me last night to set up a double date. She says she's got some great stuff to talk about wedding-wise."

JJ sighed beside her, a dreamy look entering her eyes. "I can't wait to see you and Sam get married," she said wistfully. She grinned. "Your wedding is gonna be beautiful!"

Shooting JJ a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, Penelope took another sip of her coffee. Her wedding certainly would be beautiful. Savannah was helping her every step of the way, and while Penelope was more than grateful, she didn't know how she felt about the _man _she was marrying. Sam made sense to her: he was funny, he could make her smile, he was good in bed. He made her feel lukewarm, content in the way she might feel sitting on a park bench on a beautiful day.

But she wasn't entirely sure that's what she wanted. When she was awake and going through the motions of the day, it didn't phase her much. But while she slept, she dreamed of something completely different. She desired the feeling of being on a burning roller coaster, where the ride was scary and life-threatening, but it sent the adrenaline rushing through her veins at light speed and made her heart thump rapidly against her ribcage.

Sam didn't provide that for her. She wanted someone who would challenge her, make her feel alive, and her fiancée was far from a challenge. In many ways, she feared her relationship was going to turn into Derek's. She thought Savannah was wonderful, and she knew the woman loved Derek with all her heart, but Derek clearly wasn't invested. Half of the time when Penelope saw him she could've mistaken him for a ghost, and in the back of her mind, she knew one day he was going to break Savannah's heart with that detachment.

"Earth to Garcia!" Emily called, waving her hand in front of Penelope's face.

Shaking her head, Penelope blinked several times and smiled brilliantly. "Yeppers?" she asked.

"Thinking about the wedding jitters?" Emily teased. She grabbed her hand, a devilish glint lighting up in her eyes. "Or are you thinking about a little bundle of joy?" She nodded to Penelope's stomach. "You got a little mini Sam in there?"

Cheeks flushing, Penelope shook her head. "No!" she mumbled with a nervous laugh. "I'm not even _close_ to the point of thinking about kids yet."

"Oh, you'll want them, sweetie," JJ sighed. "Trust me, I had no plans for them immediately when Will got together, but then Henry came along. You won't be disappointed when you finally have them."

Emily nodded in agreement. "And you'll be a great mommy, Garcie," she said. "Give Noah and Henry some buddies to play with, seeing as Derek and Savannah don't seem to be moving forward with fertility treatments."

Penelope sighed. She hated that Derek was being so stubborn about children. Children his wife so badly wanted. He seemed convinced he would be a horrible father, but Penelope knew it was just fear; Derek would be a great father, and his lack of faith in himself broke Penelope's heart.

"Well, you know, he'll come around," she sighed, sipping her coffee. "I'm going to make him realize he could be a good father." Unsure, she looked over at Emily and arched a brow. "When you and Hotch were married, did you have to convince him he would be a good dad?"

Emily's face went blank, and she averted her eyes, losing herself in her thoughts. It was awhile before she answered. "No," she murmured, her voice soft as a wisp of wind. "No, Aar —" She halted midway through his name and shook his head, as if the syllables of her ex-husband's name left a bitter taste in her mouth. "_Hotch _was never afraid to be a father. He was so excited when we had Noah."

Penelope and JJ exchanged glances at the noticeable change in Emily's demeanor, but neither of them said a word.

For a moment, the trio just walked along the sidewalk, the sounds of the city enveloping them into a visible obscurity. It was as if they all were hijacked by their individual thoughts. Penelope didn't know what her friends had consuming their minds, but all she could think of was helping Derek realize the potential happiness he and Savannah had in their grasps.

But when they reached an intersection, she chose to break the silence, becoming uncomfortable with her inability to shove her best friend's lack of happiness from her mind when she could barely find her own joy in life.

"Ooh, let's go to Theo's!" she exclaimed, pointing to the shoe shop right up ahead of them. "I could use some new heels for tonight!"

XXXXX

"This place is great!" Penelope said softly, leaning across the table at the French restaurant Savannah had made reservations at. Lifting her wineglass, Penelope clinked hers with Savannah's and took a grateful sip of the red liquid. "It's definitely on the list for the rehearsal dinner." She turned sideways to smile at Sam. "You like it, sweetie?"

He nodded and ran his fingers over the back of her neck tenderly. "Yeah, this place is nice," he said, grinning. "I'm glad you thought of having us try it tonight, Savannah."

Derek flashed everyone his classic grin and winked. "And the fact they have a bar in the other room is a plus," he jested, raising his wineglass to them.

Throwing her head back, Penelope laughed and clinked her glass with his. "Touché, Ho —" She halted seamlessly and corrected herself. "Morgan." She and Derek had always made a point to keep their harmless flirting out of the knowledge of their significant others. An amused glint lit up his eyes as he smirked at her near-mistake.

After their waiter came and took their orders, Penelope leaned forward and looked directly at Savannah. "So I think we've found the rehearsal dinner spot. What else did you want to talk wedding-wise?" She grinned. "I don't know where you find time to even _think _about this with work and that one right there." She pointed her red painted fingernail at Derek and giggled.

Savannah shrugged and gave a demure smile. She kissed Derek's cheek. "Oh, this one isn't so high-maintenance," she said with a laugh.

Penelope and Derek's eyes met. Something was off in his gaze, and Penelope fought down the urge to ask what was wrong. She would wait until later when they were alone.

"So have you two started thinking about kids yet?" Savannah asked, returning her attention to Penelope and Sam. She blinked at them, expecting a hasty answer.

Derek's head shot to look at his wife. "_Savannah_!" he hissed, appalled. Savannah ignored him and waited for an answer from either Penelope or Sam.

Freezing, Penelope resisted the urge to groan out loud. How could she possibly be so unlucky as to be asked about children _twice _in one day? Smiling tightly, she prepared herself to respond, but Sam beat her to it.

"Well, we haven't talked about it yet, but I certainly want them," he replied with a broad grin. He looked over at Penelope and waited expectantly for her answer of agreement.

Derek shook his head from across the table. "You don't have to answer that, Garcia," he muttered, his eyes flicking to his wife once more.

"She can if she wants to," Savannah insisted. "And I'd love to hear about someone who wants kids…seeing as we aren't moving anywhere with them." She looked over at her husband, a glint of aggression in her eyes.

Immediately, the air filled with tension. Penelope and Sam averted their eyes from Derek and Savannah, neither of them understanding how they were supposed to react in this situation before them.

"Are we really doing this here?" he demanded, irritated.

"Doing what?" she replied, innocence on her face but challenge in her eyes.

Penelope finally gained the courage to look up at her friends. Derek looked pissed as hell, his features clouded with rage. Savannah now stared hatefully at him, but this time a painful light shone in her eyes. Rising to his feet, Derek nodded to Penelope and Sam. "Excuse me," he groused. "I'm headed to that bar to try out their…_stronger _selections."

And then he was gone, striding across the restaurant until he was out of sight.

The rest of them sat in silence for a moment, Savannah looking like she might cry. Penelope rose to her feet as well and squeezed Savannah's shoulder. "I'll go talk to him," she murmured. She didn't wait for Sam or Savannah to say anything; she just went after her best friend. When she found him in the bar, a tumbler of amber liquid in his grasp, she placed a hand on his shoulder and sighed.

"Baby Boy, what the hell was that for?" she asked, sitting beside him on a bar stool.

He shook his head. "She shouldn't have asked you that," he muttered. "That was out of line, and she was pissed at me because of an argument we had about my mom and kids." He glanced over at her and grumbled something incoherent.

"Derek, you don't need to fight with her, though," Penelope scolded. "You need to make up with her."

Turning to look at her, Derek stared at her for a moment, silent. His eyes coasted from her face downward. They stopped for a moment, his gaze resting on her breasts. She shifted uncomfortably, but nothing short of coverage with her hands would be able to hide her cleavage. Her tight knee-length red dress had a plunging neckline, and there was no way to hide it.

_Why is he looking at me like this_? she thought.

Coughing uncomfortably, she looked toward the entrance to the bar and nodded. "Can we go back and have dinner now?" she asked, plastering an unsure grin on her face. "I'd like to get to try the food."

Derek looked back at his drink and finished it off. He kissed her cheek, his lips oddly burning an impression on her skin. "Anything for my Baby Girl's wedding plans," he joked.

XXXXX

_2 Weeks Later_

Emily shouldered her briefcase at exactly five in the evening. The team had a local case going on, and they were waiting for the results of DNA testing on a sample of clothing before proceeding any further. With Aaron at the helm of the team, Emily got permission to go home to Noah.

"Raven-haired princess!"

She heard Penelope's voice just as she was about to push the button to go down. Turning, she smiled as her friend clicked towards her in four inch heels. "Hey Garcia," she said. "What's up? You gonna be here for another couple of hours?"

Penelope shrugged. "Life of a technical analyst who was forcibly hired to the FBI," she chirped. "Morgan and I are going through all the lists of suspects again. We'll be here for a little while, but that's okay because our other halves will be working late as well."

Emily snorted. "What are you talking about? You and Morgan _are _each other's 'other half,'" she joked.

"Why do people keep saying shit like that?" Penelope groused, crossing her arms over her chest. "Yesterday when Morgan and I were grabbing lunch the waitress at the deli thought we were married! She asked us if we wanted a private room and then _winked _at us."

The sudden seriousness of her friend's behavior made Emily pause. Both Penelope and Morgan's behavior with regard to one another over the past few weeks puzzled her. Before she could respond to ask why Penelope was being bizarre, Aaron pushed his way through the glass doors that led to the bullpen. Their gazes were drawn toward their unit chief, and Emily's muscles tensed. She gazed at him evenly as he approached, and she continued to after he halted.

"Garcia," Aaron said, holding up a file. "I just got a fax list of names that I want you and Morgan to add to your search later tonight." He handed the papers over and nodded to her. "I need you two to get to these as soon as you can."

Aside from the two cases they'd gone on in the past weeks, Emily and Aaron had barely spoken to one another about anything that didn't have to do with cases. Hearing his voice made her skin tingle out of nowhere. Hell, he wasn't even talking to her right then and, but damn did she feel like a live wire. Why did her body have to have this physical reaction to him when they were no longer in love?

That got her wondering, though…didn't her reaction to him mean she _was _in love with him?

She decided she couldn't dwell on it. She'd only confuse herself more.

"Yes, sir," Penelope said, taking the files from Aaron's grasp. "I'll take these to Morgan, and we'll get through them tonight."

Aaron nodded gratefully to her. "Thanks, Garcia." Before he turned to go back inside the bullpen, he looked at Emily for a brief moment. "Tell Noah I love him, and I'll see him on our day together."

Nodding, Emily crossed her arms over her chest and said, "Yes…of course." She met his eyes once more. They stared at each other for a long moment, neither of them seeming to read an emotion in the other's eyes. Emily saw out of the corner of her eye that Penelope was arching at them.

Coughing uncomfortably, Aaron strode back into the bullpen without a word. Emily and Penelope stood in the hallway in silence for a moment. "He's acting strange, isn't he?" Penelope commented.

Emily shrugged and pushed the button to go down. She kept her mouth clamped shut as she tried to slow her racing heart.

"Well you were married to the man," Penelope went on. "What's your professional opinion on why he's acting like this?"

The elevator doors slid open and Emily shook her head to her friend. "Oh, no no," she laughed bitterly. "I'm not touching that one with a twenty foot pole. The two of us divorced, Garcia. I wouldn't know jackshit about the man anymore." She got in the elevator and waved at Penelope. "I'll see you tomorrow, Garcie."

Penelope grinned, waving before the door blocked her from sight. When the elevator reached the garage level, Emily's cellphone rang, echoing off the walls of the parking lot. Rummaging in her bag, she pulled her phone out and read the caller ID.

_Sean McCallister_.

Emily frowned. Here was a name from the past. A past she wasn't sure she was ready to revisit yet, even if it had happened over a decade ago.

Curiosity got the better of her in the end, and she answered the call before it could dash to voicemail.

"Hello?" she answered, hesitant.

"Emily!" Sean's Scottish accent blared through the phone and filled her ear almost painfully.

She winced and moved the phone away from her face for a moment. He certainly sounded cheery. "Hey, Sean," she said, allowing a smile to grace her face while she looked for her keys. "I don't mean to sound abrupt, but what is this about? It's been —"

"A long time," he interrupted, his voice going serious in a matter of seconds. "I know. But this is important. I need to see you."

She frowned. "When will you be in the States?" she asked. "I suppose if you're —"

"No, you misunderstand me," he said, interrupting her again. "Emily, I'm here in DC. I need to see you now. It's that important."

Emily shook her head and snorted. "Sean, I'm supposed to pick up my son from his nanny's," she explained. "I can't just run off for no reason to meet with old friends."

"We don't have to meet long, but I need you to hear what I have to say in person," he insisted. "I came all the way here to tell you this because your life is in danger. If you want to protect your son, you'll meet with me."

Her blood ran cold. What could Sean possibly be talking about? A danger to Noah? People who would target her or her family were all locked up; there was no danger to Noah that wasn't in a maximum security prison. If Sean was here, it must really be serious.

"Let me call the nanny to let her know I'll be late," she murmured, her hands shaking as she opened her car door and got in. "Where do you want me to meet you?"

"Find me at Finnegan's on Stuart Street," Sean finished. "I'll be in the back."

Emily hung up and started the car, pulling out of the garage as quickly as she could. Something caused Sean to act as rattled as he'd sounded on the phone, and she needed to know why. If it meant protecting Noah, she would listen to anything her old friend had to say…even if it meant revisiting her past.

XXXXX

When Emily arrived at Finnegan's Bar, she found Sean sitting in a booth in the back. A beer was in front of him, and he watched the door carefully for her. She reached him and smiled. Sean rose from his seat and grinned, pulling her into a hug.

"You look great, Sean," Emily said, hugging her former colleague back. "How have you been the past twelve years? Well? What about your family?" They sat down at the table, and Emily removed her jacket.

He shrugged. "I've been well, too," he said. "Family is doing good. How about yours?"

"Well, since we last spoke I divorced Aaron," she said tightly, a lump forming in her throat that she forced herself to ignore. "Noah started first grade this year. Work keeps us away from him a lot, but we try to make up for it by spending as much time with him as possible.

Sean nodded his approval. "It sounds like you've got a good life going for you," he commented. "Certainly more stable than what it was before." He winked.

She nodded vigorously. "You have no idea how grateful I am for it," she replied.

He arched a brow. "Do you ever miss it, though?" he asked. "Traveling the globe, catching international criminals and terrorists?"

"I was younger then, Sean," she said, scowling as she looked away. "I wanted it then, but it was too dangerous. And being away from my family like that would kill me. Months at a time away from Noah? I would never be able to do that."

He sighed. "I can understand that," he remarked.

"So, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?" Emily asked, skipping past the formalities. She didn't care anymore about small talk; she needed to know what was a danger to Noah. "You sounded frantic on the phone, and not much scares you."

Sean's expression darkened, and his voice lowered. "It's…it's Ian Doyle," he revealed after a moment of deep silence.

Emily's blood ran frigid. The very name of the international arms dealer she seduced and spied on twelve years ago sent a chill up her spine she wanted nothing more than to escape. Most of the time she kept him in the deepest recesses of her mind, locking him away so he wouldn't paralyze her with fear. But every once in awhile, he invaded her dreams.

But her fears were supposed to be irrational. Ian Doyle was in an international high security prison.

"What about him?" she croaked.

"He escaped from prison," he murmured, his voice almost inaudible. "He's…missing."

Her mouth fell open. "_Escaped_?" she said in disbelief. "How could he escape the walls of that prison? It was supposed to be the best one to hold him." When Sean didn't answer her, she put her hand over her mouth. "If he's off the grid, he'll come after me. And if he finds out about Noah, he'll go for him first because it will be worse than killing me."

"And let's not forget about —"

Emily shook her head vigorously. "No!" she hissed. "No, you can't say his name. If Doyle is out, who knows who he has keeping tabs on us. He can't know anything."

Sean shot her a sympathetic glance. "Emily, you know that's what he'll be coming after," he reminded her. "If he finds you, doing something to Noah won't be to just hurt you. He'll want —"

"Stop!" she said, voice rising a decibel too loud. She attracted the attention of the few people in the bar and lowered her voice so no one could hear her anymore. "Everyone who knows the truth who isn't you or I is dead. They died in the massacre in Ireland. If we stay quiet, nothing will happen or blow our cover."

But she didn't believe her words. If Ian Doyle was out, there was no guarantee what he would do. He didn't know her real name, but the desperation and determination he would display would surely lead him to her.

"How much in danger will we be in?" she asked hoarsely.

Sean stared at her with his intense dark eyes before answering her. "You know the answer to that," he reminded her.

Emily looked at the table and her shaking hands. Lifting one hand, she bit her thumbnail. Sean was right: she did know the answer.

The danger was on its way, and she needed to do everything she could to protect Noah and Hotch. If Doyle was after her, they were the first ones he would go after.

He would do anything for the answer for to her secret.


	4. Bitten Nails - An Evening of Shiraz

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thank you for the reviews, guys :) You keep me going. We've got a bit more to go before you all find out what's really going on with Emily and that torrid affair begins. Please enjoy this next chapter with the dudes' POVs and leave a review if you have time!**

Aaron sat in his office early in the morning, scribbling his signature on several case reports. He chose to hurry to work this morning so he could spend time with his son after the work day was done. The local case was over now, having lasted a week, and he was looking forward to possibly getting to spend time with Noah after barely seeing him.

As he finished his last file, the bullpen started to awaken. One of the people entering the bullpen was none other than Emily. Only she didn't look like her usual self. Dark circles colored the skin beneath her eyes, and her face showed signs of extreme exhaustion. What really told him something was off, though, was the state of her nails. They were bitten down to practically nothing.

Emily only bit her nails to nothing when she experienced extreme stress.

Leaning back in his chair, Aaron observed his ex-wife through the glass of his office. She sat down tiredly, sipping from her coffee as she did. He arched a brow and rose to his feet. His concern for her was starting to overpower him, and he tried shrugging it away. She wouldn't share it with him anyway, even if he pressed and pressured. Emily only got this way when she was depressed about something from her past. And her past was something she never shared about.

It was part of why they split.

But even though he wanted to shake it away, he couldn't. His desire to protect her was too strong. Rising to his feet, he went to the door and opened it. Going to the railing, he looked into the bullpen and called to Emily. "Prentiss?" She looked up at him and nodded. She remained quiet, however. "Can I speak to you?"

Not switching facial expressions, Emily rose to her feet and went up to his office. She followed him inside, and he closed the door behind them. "What's up?" she asked. Even her voice sounded hoarse with tiredness.

Aaron crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against this desk. Emily sat patiently in the seat opposite him. "I wanted to see what's going on," he said. "You look like you got run over by a truck. Noah even said something to me about it."

Emily snorted. "Please, Aaron," she snapped. "I doubt you've seen Noah long enough this week for him to have a conversation with you about me supposedly looking like roadkill."

Her terse behavior right off the bat at his concern shocked him. Raising his hands up in surrender, Aaron shook his head. "Okay, I don't know where that's coming from," he said, "but I'm just worried about you. You've bitten your nails down to nothing, and I know that's what you do when you're nervous. So what is it?"

Emily's eyes went wide, and she glared at him. "Nothing is wrong," she snapped. "I'm tired, that's all. We've been getting run ragged, and I haven't gotten to see my son as much as I want to. Sorry my nails aren't perfectly manicured, though. I didn't realize unsubs gave a shit about that."

Aaron stared at her blankly, his emotions raging within himself. Confusion clouded his mind, and he shook his head. "Emily, if you need to take some time or —" he began gently.

She rose to her feet and glared at him. "Don't even go there, Aaron!" she snarled. "I'm not your wife anymore. You don't need to pretend to be concerned for me."

Anger sprouted in Aaron, and he frowned at her. "I _do _get to be concerned for you," he argued. "Not only is our son worried about you, but you're on my team. Do I need to put you on a mandatory suspension so you can take better care of yourself?"

Turning on her heel, Emily stalked towards the door. "You don't need to worry about me, _sir_," she said with a dark scowl. "I'm just fine." Then she was gone, nothing but the scent of her perfume lingering. Instead of returning to her desk, she left the bullpen, storming past Derek and Penelope as they were entering. He blinked several times, unsure of what to do now.

"What's going on with Prentiss?" a voice asked, distracting Aaron from watching Emily.

He turned and looked to find Rossi standing in the door. Aaron shook his head and shrugged, returning to behind his desk. "I have no idea," he remarked. "But even Noah is noticing something is going on. I tried to talk to her about it — I even offered her time off — but she's not interested."

Rossi closed the door and entered to sit across from Aaron. "Well, you were married to her for two years," he said. "And you even told me that what led to your divorce was you two never told each other anything."

"Well, yeah," Aaron said, leaning back in his chair. "She hasn't told me anything about her life before we met. I know she traveled a lot as a child because her mother was an ambassador, but aside from that, she hasn't told me anything."

"The CIA will do that to a person," Rossi commented. "Something must have happened to her that she didn't want anyone finding out about."

"I'm positive that's what happened," Aaron replied, his eyes drifting to the bullpen to search for Emily again. Instead, all he found was Morgan and Reid listening to something Garcia was saying, all three of them laughing animatedly as she gestured her point with her hands. JJ walked up behind them and joined in, but there was still no sign of Emily. "She just refuses to tell me anything."

Rossi snickered. "Maybe _you _could start with telling her you're still in love with her," he joked.

Aaron shot him a look. "I'm _not _still in love with her," he insisted, his voice weak. He knew it wasn't true; he most certainly _was _in love with Emily.

"Methinks thou doth protest too much, Aaron," Rossi quipped. When Aaron continued his fierce glare, Rossi laughed and added, "Don't worry, my friend. We'll figure out how to win her back after our briefing."

Aaron rose to his feet and picked up his tablet. "No…we _won't_," he said. "We'll just go to the briefing and hope the case we get won't keep me away from Noah too long. I promised him that if I was home tonight I'd take him to get pizza."

Rossi clapped him on the back and nodded. "Let's see what we can do so you can see your son tonight. And if you need me to, I can set up a night for us to go out on the town…I'll be your wingman!" He flashed a wolfish, conspiratorial grin at Aaron as they made their way out of the office and toward the round table room.

Shooting Rossi a look, Aaron pushed into the round table room where the majority of the team had gathered. Reid and JJ were chatting and telling a joke, and Morgan and Garcia were talking quietly with one another.

"Anyone know where Prentiss is?" Aaron asked as he pulled his seat out to sit. He would rather someone else bring Emily in if she didn't show up of her own accord. After their morning encounter, he didn't think she wanted to interact much more with him.

"I'm right here," she said as she burst in through the back door of the round table room. Her expression was guarded, but she sat down beside Garcia. She gave Garcia a tight smile and a nod. "What do we have?"

Garcia rose to her feet and motioned to the screen. "Alright, gang," she chirped, accepting the remote from Morgan's grasp. She clicked a button that moved several photos on the screen. "We don't have a case right now, but we've got a couple of local PDs who want a consultation. Hotch and I talked to them earlier, and we're splitting you guys up and sending you out. If we get a case that you have to fly out for, I'll call you all. But until then, you're just making calls or going to the local stations."

Hotch nodded. "Alright," he said. "Everyone go where Garcia tells you. I'm headed with Reid to Glendale." He rose to his feet and motioned for Reid to join him. As he started for the door, he caught sight of Emily in his peripheral vision.

She was biting her nails again.

XXXXX

"Thank God we have a lunch break…I mean it's a lunch break that's happening at six in the evening, but still!" Penelope crowed as she and Derek walked into their favorite local café. "I'm _starving_!" She giggled as she realized her voice was a tad too loud and people were starting to stare at her. Derek laughed and kissed her temple. Even if she was embarrassed she had been too loud, he thought it was adorable and what made her unique.

Over the past weeks, Derek continued to dream of his best friend. Sex with Savannah slowed to nonexistent as he began to take care of each of his hard-ons in the shower. It meant extra time in the morning to clean the walls of the stall, but it all became worth it when he came thinking about being buried deep inside Penelope.

"Well then," he began as the waitress started leading them to a table. "Let's get some food in your belly to recharge those batteries." He winked. "My treat."

Her eyes brightened. "Really?" she asked. "For me?" She batted her eyelashes and tapped her chin with her lime green painted index finger. "Why thank you, cocoa ball."

He grinned at her as they sat down. Before he planted himself in his seat though, he caught a glimpse of her cleavage and swallowed hard. Sweat even began to pool on the back of his neck, and he resisted the urge to lean over to get a better view of the valley between her breasts.

In the end, he pushed back his desires. Penelope opened her menu and began perusing it for what she wanted to eat, so he took the opportunity to study her. He watched as she bit her dusky rose lip, and her eyes moved back and forth across the page. His heart sped up, his eyes unblinking as he stared at her flawless features. And her lips…the lips he wanted so badly to lean over and taste.

Derek knew he should have felt bad about ogling his best friend. She was engaged, he was a married man. This was wrong.

Strangely, though, he didn't give a shit.

Penelope shut her menu finally and looked up to meet his eyes. When she noticed he was staring at her, she gave a nervous laugh and averted her eyes. "Everything okay, Morgan?" she asked. She lifted her water glass to her lips and took a sip as she waited expectantly for an answer.

After a tense moment, he nodded. "Yeah," he said hoarsely. "I'm okay. Just tired. Savannah's been riding me about how much she thinks my mother is 'poisoning' me against the idea of having kids. She doesn't seem to get that I just don't want them."

Penelope leaned forward and scrutinized him carefully. "Why is it you don't want kids again?" she pressed. "I mean, it's like —"

Before she could continue, their waiter approached the table. "Hi there!" she said brightly. "I'm Carly, I'll be your server today. Can I get you lovely couple a bottle of wine or something?" She winked at them both.

Eyes widening, Penelope shook her head at the waitress. "No, no!" she said, waving her hands. "No, we're not together. He's married, I'm engaged, but not to each other!"

Carly backtracked. "Oh, I apologize," she said. "I just assumed. Well, anyway, can I get you a drink to start you off?"

Derek nodded and ordered a bottle of Shiraz. When the waitress disappeared with their drink order, Penelope resumed leaning forward so she could observe him again. Once more, his eyes were drawn to her breasts, and his mouth began to water.

Clearing her throat, Penelope forced him to look up at her. "Now, as I was saying," she went on, looking him in the eyes. "_Why _in the hell do you not want kids? You and Savannah would have adorable babies!"

As hard as he tried, Derek couldn't imagine a child with his wife. A picture of one never entered his mind. He shook his head and leaned back in his chair. "No, we wouldn't, Baby Girl," he admitted. "I would be a horrible father. I'm away from home all the time, Savannah works a helluva a lot…hell, she's working all night tonight! We wouldn't be able to have a good home for a kid."

Penelope rolled her eyes and pointed at him. "Don't give me that crap!" she growled. "You would be a great dad! You would love your kids more than anyone on the planet. And that would make you the perfect father."

He arched a brow at her. "I don't see you working towards a kid either, Garcia," he pointed out.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Someday…" she muttered. "Maybe."

Derek sighed and shook his head. They sat in silence for a long moment, both of them sipping their waters. Their wine came and they ordered, but neither of them were able to muster up much of a smile at the waitress. "How did we end up here, Baby Girl?" he asked after they placed their orders and the waitress was gone.

"End up where?" Penelope asked, confused.

He sputtered a laugh and sipped his wine before responding. "_Here_," he went on. "In these relationships. People are supposed to want kids right now. People are supposed to be madly in love with their spouses." He watched her try to form a protesting remark, but he shook his head and wagged his finger at her. "Tut, tut, sweetness. We both know you and Sam ain't got nothin' you wanna write home about…just like Savannah and I have a crummy marriage."

Penelope relented and sighed. "Ugh, I don't know," she mumbled, taking a gulp of her wine. "I guess we did sort of settle, didn't we? We don't have any passion whatsoever."

"I'll drink to that," Derek laughed, raising his glass and clinking it with Penelope's.

Sighing sadly, Penelope set down her glass and shook her head. A sorrowful expression covered her face and she murmured, "But they're so in love with us. Or at least, Savannah is with _you_. I could be totally wrong about Sam, but your wife really loves you."

"Still…I can't seem to give her what she wants," he grumbled. "I'm…trying to work it out with her, though." The last sentence was a lie; he wasn't trying to work out anything. All he was doing was jacking off in the shower, thinking about the woman — the woman whose voluptuous curves were invading his brain and his dreams every waking and sleeping hour — sitting across from him rather than his wife.

"Maybe this is why we need kids," Penelope mused, swirling the wine in her glass. "We need people to shove all our love on since we can't seem to muster it for our wife and husband-to-be."

Derek merely chuckled. "Maybe so."

XXXXX

After their dinner was done and the check was paid, Derek and Penelope meandered out of the restaurant and back down the sidewalk toward their cars. He sighed as they walked along and stuck his hands in his pockets.

"I'm sorry," he murmured as they made their way to the parking lot.

A laugh bubbled from her lips, and a frown formed on her face. "For what?" she asked.

"That you aren't happy," he said, halting them in the middle of the sidewalk. He tapped her nose and gave her a sad smile. "I wish there was something I could do to help."

Penelope huffed, but she smiled at him and took his hand. "Baby Boy, just being here for me is enough to help," she whispered. "And you know what? We could easily make this better. You were in love with Savannah once…maybe it could happen again."

He laughed bitterly. "I'm not so sure anymore," he admitted. "I don't know if I ever loved her."

Giving him a sad look, Penelope leaned up and kissed his cheek before wrapping her arms around his neck to hug him. Derek hugged her tightly back, inhaling deeply so he could smell the sweet scent of her strawberry shampoo. Or maybe it was her perfume. Either way, he wanted to drown in her all night long. Her soft body against his began to arouse him, and he coughed reluctantly before she could feel his erection pressing against her hips.

"I - I have to go!" he muttered, his eyes falling on her lips when he backed away. With one last look at her confused expression, he released her from his embrace and hurried off to his car before she could see how aroused he was.


	5. Fires That Can't Be Quenched

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thank you all so much for your reviews. Both story lines are about to get a little more intense, so I hope you'll enjoy it. This is another Emily and Penelope POV one, and it's a massive one, so bear with me for the length.**

Two days after Hotch expressed his concerns to Emily, the team was readying themselves to go to the middle of nowhere in Montana. Three bodies had been found in the mountains, and due to the gruesome nature of the corpses, the BAU's assistance was needed.

Emily drove along down the street to her son's elementary school to drop him off before she left, watching the road carefully. She didn't know where Doyle could be, but she had no doubt he would try to taunt her before he actually came after her. He would wait until the perfect moment to come after her.

"Mom?" Noah asked from the back seat.

Emily broke out of her vigilant daze and looked up in her rearview mirror so she could see Noah. She smiled as she looked back at the road. "What's up, buddy?" she asked, flipping her turn signal on.

"What happens to the bad guys you catch after you get them?" he asked,

Laughing, Emily shook her head. Her son had asked questions about what she and Aaron did for a living, but usually about the cars or the guns. Never had he asked about the unsubs. "Why do you ask?"

"I just wanna know," he chirped, looking out the window. "Dad won't tell me anything when I ask him, so I thought I'd ask you. You're both really hard to ask questions, but I think you'll be easier because you actually smile."

Emily would have burst out laughing if she hadn't been so tired from worrying about Doyle. Her son was turning out to be quite the profiler, even at just six years old.

"Well…" she finally answered. "It depends on the bad guy. Most of the time, they go to prison where they're locked up for the rest of their lives. Sometimes though, they're very sick and that sickness keeps them from knowing what they did was wrong. So we send them to get help."

"Does the help work for them?" Noah asked.

She shrugged. "Sometimes," she said. "Sometimes not. It all depends on the person." She pulled up to the curb outside of Noah's school and put the car into park. Mother and son unbuckled their seats and stepped out of the car. All the while, her eyes flicked around the street, making sure no suspicious or out of place characters were in the way. She couldn't take any chances that Doyle was already making a move, even this soon after his escape from international prison. Emily went around so she was standing beside Noah on the curb, and she knelt down so she could wrap her arms around him.

"I love you, buddy," she murmured, holding him close. She moved backwards and moved some of his hair out of his face. Managing a genuine smile for the first time in a long time, she added, "You have a good day at school, okay?"

Noah grinned at her and gave her a thumbs up. "You got it, Mom," he said, a bright light entering his eyes. He turned and ran up the sidewalk toward the school where he joined a friend to go inside. Emily rose to her feet and watched as her son disappeared into his school. Her heart thumped in her chest Just as Noah disappeared within the building, her phone rang with a text, jerking her back to reality. She glanced down at it and sighed. It was Penelope.

_We're waiting on you, Black-Haired Beauty!_

Sliding her phone back into her pocket, Emily went to the driver's side of the car and got in. Noah was safe for now, of this she was sure. If Doyle were to make a move, he would make sure she knew he was setting something in motion first.

That was just his style.

XXXXX

"Alright, everyone get some rest," Aaron ordered as the team arrived at the motel they were staying at in Montana for the duration of their case. Emily rubbed her forehead and yawned. The day consisted of nothing but their flight and preliminary investigations, and so far they had nothing to even begin giving a profile. "We'll start fresh in the morning."

Everyone nodded their agreement, exhausted from their trekking through the mountains to the crime scene. After distributing keys, everyone split up and separated. Emily slid off in silence, not wanting to linger any longer. She felt distracted all day long, and she knew it had to do with Ian Doyle and his lack of appearance. Maybe he'd lost his touch and had no idea how to find her.

She could only pray.

As she closed the door to her hotel room behind her, her cellphone rang. She pulled it from her pocket and frowned at the number. Yet another name from her past. There could only be on reason why this was happening.

"Tsia?" she breathed as she answered the call.

"You sound shaken," Tsia commented in greeting. There was a smile in her voice.

Emily plopped down on the end of her bed and rolled her eyes. She kicked her boots off and shook her head, even though Tsia couldn't see it. "You wouldn't be calling me if you didn't know what was going on," she shot back, surprised at the ease of their conversation despite not having spoken in years. "And I have every right to be shaken, for your information. One of the worst criminals I've put away found his way out of jail, and he could come after my son."

"This is why I called you," Tsia added. "Emily, Ian Doyle didn't know who you really were. As far as he knows, Lauren Reynolds is dead. He has no reason to believe otherwise."

_If only she knew the truth_, Emily thought. _But only Sean and I know why Doyle has a reason to find me_.

"Tsia, if you had a child, you wouldn't think that saying something simple like 'Lauren Reynolds is dead' cuts it," Emily remarked, leaning back on the bed so she was staring at the ceiling. "Doyle was always smart…he hates me enough to want to come after me."

Her friend sighed on the other end of the line. "Sweetie, I want you to try and relax," Tsia advised. "I know you want to protect your family, but I really don't think there's anything to protect them from. If there is, Clyde would get the rest of us in motion to stop Doyle. So I want you to slow down. Focus on work, focus on your son, maybe get back together with your ex if you have time…" There was a hint of suggestion in her tone, and Emily resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"I'll try to follow your advice," Emily sighed. "Except for that last part. I'm not getting back together with Aaron." She snorted. "I wouldn't do that even if fire started raining from the sky at the same time the zombie apocalypse started."

Tsia laughed. "He's awfully handsome for you to be saying that so surely."

"Well, I know that. I _did _marry him, after all…a long time ago," Emily murmured, rubbing her face. As she was about to add more, a knock sounded from her door, and she sat upright. Her hand instinctively reached for her gun. After weeks of worrying about Doyle, her blood raced at any slight sound, however irrational it may have been.

She didn't respond to the knock immediately, and a voice called inside to her. "Prentiss? Prentiss, can I come in to talk to you?"

It was Aaron. Emily breathed an audible sigh of relief, and her fingers unclenched around the hilt of her gun.

Tsia heard Emily's sigh and clucked her tongue. "What? Thinking about Aaron?" she teased. It was clear she was doing all she could to lighten Emily's mood, even resorting to more girly-type antics to keep her on the phone.

"No," Emily muttered, rising to her feet to go to the door. "I have to go. I'll call you later…or if you hear anything about…" She paused. She couldn't manage to say Doyle's name aloud with Aaron just on the other side of the paper thin door. "Just let me know."

Without waiting for a farewell from her friend, Emily hung up her phone call and pocketed her cell. She went to the door and opened it. Aaron stood in the doorframe, his suit jacket gone and his tie loosened around his neck. He stared at her for a moment before nodding to her hotel room.

"What do you want, Hotch?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer. There were no doubts in her mind that she would be listening to a lecture about having to take a break after this case.

"May I come in?" he asked, impatient.

She observed him momentarily before moving aside for him to enter. Closing the door behind them, Emily turned to face Aaron and crossed her arms over her chest. She forced some semblance of pleasantness into her voice as she spoke. "What can I do for you?" she repeated.

Aaron sighed. "Emily, what is going _on_?" he asked. "You've been distracted all day, and I know you didn't want me asking a few days ago, but I'm going to anyway. Noah asked me again what was going on with you last night before I dropped him off back at your house."

"What the hell do you mean I've 'been distracted all day?'" she demanded. "I've been doing my job just fine. I was a little late to the meeting this morning, but that was because I dropped Noah off at school and traffic was bad."

He shook his head. "You really don't see what I'm getting at right now, do you?" An unusual snort came from his mouth, and he scowled. "I'm worried about you because _Noah _is worried about you. He sees what I'm seeing, and that's that you're stressed as hell."

_Why couldn't Noah's hidden talent be…well, anything other than reading behavior! _she thought.

"What pushed you?" he went on. He moved closer to her and took her hands, causing her eyes to go wide. "You know you can ask us for help." He lowered his voice. "Or just me. We get along pretty well for being divorced I'd say."

Emily froze at the tender look in his eyes. Where had this come from? Her heart beat faster in her chest, and she averted her eyes. His touch burned her hands in a pleasant way, and she closed her eyes to attempt to regain her composure. Fire ripped through her, and she tried stopping herself from reacting to it.

Opening her eyes, she saw Aaron still standing in front of her, staring into her eyes. Her eyes fell on his lips, and nothing inside her could quell the desire she felt every time she looked at him. With trembling hands, she grabbed him by his tie and yanked him forward, unable to keep herself from him.

The second her lips touched his, she felt complete. Something clicked in her. She forced his lips open and slid her tongue in with his, stroking it against his. Shock didn't even set in for him; he moved right in motion with her. His fingers tangled in her hair, and she moaned against his lips. She wanted to drown in him.

Aaron kept her close, his right hand sliding beneath her shirt to cup her breast while his other hand cupped the back of her neck. He drank deeply from her, causing her to push back against him so she rammed him into the wall. Her fingers fumbled with the tie at his neck, but before she could rip the tie off, her mind cleared. She broke the kiss, pushing herself away from Aaron.

Rubbing her forehead, Emily looked up at him finally. He was breathing just as heavily as she was, and he looked equally as shocked.

"I - I'm sorry," she whispered. Aaron tried to go to her once more, but she shook her head. "No. No, Aaron, just go. I don't know why I did that, but I did…and I would take it back."

Hurt struck his face, but it disappeared just as quickly. With a sigh, he strode toward the door and opened it. He paused momentarily, but without another word, he left the room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Sitting down on the bed, Emily put her head in her hands and clenched her fists. Damn it, why had she done that? _Why_? Growling angrily at herself, she flopped back on her bed once more and stared up at the ceiling until she drifted off into dreamland.

XXXXX

_She stared at the marble sink in her bathroom, fingers trembling and heart racing. Looking up into the mirror, she stared at her shaken expression with fear. This couldn't be happening to her. It couldn't. This was temporary, just an assignment, and here she'd gotten herself involved in a much worse and personal way. Tears burned in the back of her eyes, and her eyes fell back onto the sink._

"_My love?"_

_She didn't look up to the owner of the voice, and then a pair of strong arms wrapped around her from behind. Scruff touched her neck, followed by warm lips._

_Fear tickled her spine once more, but she kept it contained._

"_Lauren…Lauren, look at me," he coaxed, urging her to turn around. She did. Her eyes lifted to his, and she forced a smile. Ian Doyle's eyes pierced into hers. "What is it?" He cupped her cheek._

_Shaking her head, she turned her face and kissed his palm. "It's nothing," she murmured. "Nothing at all."_

_Ian kissed her forehead. "I may be…busy with my work, but I'm not so preoccupied that I can't see you're worried about something. You can't hide it from me."_

_Wrapping her arms around his neck, Lauren pressed her lips directly to his. "And I would never try."_

_Later that night, as Ian slept peacefully in their large, spacious bed, Lauren slid from his arms. Going to her closet, she entered it soundlessly and went to the back of it. Digging into a pile of cashmere sweaters, she produced a cell phone and held it tightly in her grasp. She wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and exited the room._

_Making her way outside, she entered the gardens and stood beneath the light of the moon. With her shaking hands, she pressed in a number and put the phone to her ears._

"_Hello?" Sean answered in a yawn._

"_Sean," she whispered, tears burning in the back of her eyes._

_His voice brightened instantly. "Emily? Emily, what is it? You wouldn't be calling if this weren't an emergency."_

_The dam finally broke, and tears streamed from her eyes. "Sean…I'm pregnant."_

XXXXX

Penelope wiped her tears with a kleenex as she sat in her office. Four days ago, the team went to Montana to solve a gruesome series of murders. Four hours ago, Morgan got shot in the gut with a shotgun by the unsub while trying to apprehend him. His vest protected him from being injured with more than horrible bruises, but he hadn't needed to be as reckless has he had been.

When the team arrived home, most of them left immediately. She didn't know if Derek had left or not, but so far he had yet to come see her. Did she want to see him, though? She would likely yell at him with as mad as she was.

"Stupid hero," she mumbled.

As she rose to her feet, a knock sounded from the door. Her door sat locked — she hadn't wanted to be bothered — so she went across the room to open it. When she opened it, Derek stood, clutching his stomach. He looked at her with a wounded expression, and she glared at him.

"What do you want?" she snapped. "I don't think I should talk to you right now. I'm pissed as hell at you."

He arched a brow at her. "Can I come in, Bab —"

"I'm not in the mood for you to call me that!"

Sighing, he remained in place and waited for her to cave, like he knew she would. Tears filling her eyes once more, she allowed him inside and shut the door behind them. As soon as he did, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "How could you do that?" she demanded. "How could you not _think_ before you went after that unsub?" Derek tried to go to her, but she put her hand out. She shook her head and went on. "You didn't think of any of the people who care about you! You didn't think of the team, you didn't think of Fran, you didn't think about Savannah. You didn't…" She swallowed hard, tears trickling down her face. "You didn't think about…" She bent her head.

This time when Derek crossed the room, she didn't refuse his presence. He tilted her chin upwards to look at him. His large hand cupped her cheek, and she closed her eyes before breathing shakily. The touch of his hand burned against her face. "I didn't think about what?" he murmured, voice husky.

"You didn't think about _me_!" she croaked. "You're my best friend…what am I supposed to do if something happens to you?"

Derek stared at her. Their eyes formed a bridge of a connection, and a fire sparked within her that she didn't think she would be able to quell. Her lungs burned with each breath she took, and there was only one thing she could think of to stop it.

Reaching forward, she grabbed Derek by the back of the neck and yanked him forward. Their lips crashed together, and he kissed her back without a moment's hesitation. His hands roamed the expanse of her body, squeezing her breasts so that she moaned against his lips. Her arms wrapped tighter around his neck, and he lifted her off her feet. She hooked her legs around his waist. He carried her to her desk and seated her on it.

Their lips never broke apart.

Derek slid his hands beneath her skirt, playing with the band of her underwear. A rush of excitement shot up her spine, and each stroke of his tongue brought her one step closer to the ecstasy her life had been lacking for so long. Moisture pooled in her panties, heated arousal trickling down her thighs.

Penelope released his neck. She moved her hands to slide beneath his t-shirt, pulling it up over his chest so he could yank it off. Moving back, she looked into his eyes. Onyx gazed back at her, barely hooded desire shining back at her.

_We can't do this_, she thought. _We have to stop._

Instead, she tore her own shirt off so her fire-engine red bra was visible. His eyes grew wide, and she smirked. "You like these?" she growled, pulling his head closer to her breasts.

"You know I do," he murmured. His mouth descended to the valley between her breasts, but before he kissed her lily white skin, he used his large hands and ripped the front of her bra apart. It was then she realized what she'd been seeing all these weeks: desire. He wanted her, and his feelings were now unleashed. Their passionless relationships fueled their desire for one another, creating the hunger between them.

Penelope's breasts sat in front of him, her nipples pointed upwards with her fierce arousal. He leaned forward and suckled on one of her nipples. Her head fell backwards, and she moaned softly. His hardness pressed against her inner thigh. She shuddered with need.

"_Derek_," she moaned, arching her back. He kept suckling at her neck, and she grabbed his face. His pupils were dark and his breathing frenzied. She kissed him once more before whispering, "Inside me…I want you inside me."

Derek nodded and pushed her skirt up. Penelope's fingers fumbled with his belt buckle, but her quest to push his pants down to his ankles was halted when he ripped her panties and stuck a finger inside her. She gasped, pulling him even closer so her breasts were pressed against his chest. He released her, causing her to drift backwards against her desk. His pants fell to his ankles, and he pulled her back into his arms.

The sight of his erection sent another gush of wetness down her thighs. Her eyes went wide, and she grasped his length, relishing the hardness and the heat of him. Derek gritted his teeth as she ran her hand up and down his cock.

"_Jesus Christ_!" he growled. Leaning closer to her, he kissed her soundly, devouring her with the liquid fire of his tongue. Penelope moaned once more and ran her lips down his jaw and to his throat. His teeth grasped her earlobe, and he nibbled on it, his goatee tickling her sensitive skin. "Spread your legs wider, Baby."

Penelope gladly obliged. Seconds later, he pressed into her in one fell swoop. Both of them cried out in ecstasy. Sweat pooled between their bodies, and she clutched Derek's shoulders tightly as he plunged into her swiftly. Pleasure burst through her with each thrust. Derek's grip on her hips and his lips on the tender flesh of her neck shot sparks through her skin, charging her like a battery getting struck by lightning.

She felt…she felt _alive_.

"Faster," she urged him. "Go faster!"

"Anything," he grunted, increasing the speed of his thrusts so she was moaning against his neck and the desk was shaking beneath them.

Inhaling sharply, she gasped. "Oh, God!" she cried. "Oh, God Derek, I'm about to come!"

Gritting his teeth, Derek reached between their sweaty bodies and pressed hard on her clit. She gasped sharply as she began to come in crippling shock waves that took away her ability to function. Seconds later, she felt his release in thick pulsing spurts within her.

Clutching one another, Penelope buried her face against his sweat covered neck and breathed heavily. Neither of them said a word. But despite her silence, Penelope's brain raced with thoughts. She and Derek just cheated on their significant others, each of them resting against one another with weak limbs. Even with her lust and feeling of being sated, guilt started to lick at her as Sam and Savannah entered her mind.

_What have I done?_ she thought, her blood running cold, even as she leaned against the fiery hot body of her best friend.

XXXXX

"Hey sweetie!" Sam boomed as Penelope entered her apartment.

The sound of his sweet, hopeful voice made her avert her eyes as she kicked her shoes off at the door. After fleeing the BAU building following her passionate sex with Derek in her office, she forced herself to go to the nearest Walgreens to buy a cheap body spray to cover the smell of sex on her. Hopefully, Sam would be unable to tell the difference between this and the perfume she kept at home.

And even more hopefully he would be unable to tell she was having a difficult time walking.

Looking up at Sam finally, Penelope gave him a fake smile and waved. "Hey," she croaked. She looked at the candlelight on the table and the bottle of wine he opened. She frowned. "What's all this for?"

He grinned. "I have an announcement to make," he said excitedly, handing a wine glass over to her.

"Oh?" she asked, arching a brow. She took the wine, hoping her hand wouldn't shake too much and thus show her guilt. "What's the announcement?"

Sam strode forward and kissed her. "I'm going on a business trip," he said. "It's a rather lengthy one, and it's in Europe, but the bonus I'm getting is going to be enough for us to take an even better honeymoon." He grinned. "We'll have to move the wedding back a few months, but after this we can have the greatest trip of your life…of _our_ life."

Penelope sipped her wine and stared at him. He looked down at her with such a tender expression that her betrayal stabbed even deeper into her heart. How could she have done this? Swallowing hard, she leaned up and pecked her lips.

"I'll miss you so much," she whispered, not sure if she believed her own words.


	6. No Regrets - Freesia Delivery

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thanks so much for the reviews, guys! I hope you all had a nice holiday. Here****'****s the next installment with the guys****' ****POVs. It****'****s shorter, but that****'****s mostly because the girls have a much more compelling story for me to write I think. Enjoy :)**

The elevator ride up to the BAU the next morning filled Derek's gut with an anxiety-laced pile of rot. He could scarcely believe what he had done just the night before. When he first began realizing his marriage to Savannah would fizzle out like a dying candle, he figured they would eventually grow apart to a mutual feeling of separation.

Never in a million years did he think he would cheat on his wife though, least of all with his best friend.

He thought back to the previous evening as the ride up the elevator crawled by at an agonizing pace.

"_Where__'__ve you been?__" __Savannah demanded as Derek walked in from their garage. She stared at him incredulously. __"__We were supposed to have dinner together because we would both be home! You didn__'__t call or text or anything!__"_

_Derek gulped, grappling within himself for an answer. What could he say? _Hey honey, I'm home…I just cheated on you with my best friend. How was your day? _ Instead, he went with a different route, one that would surely not land him in trouble._

_He chose to lie._

_Going forward to stand in front of Savannah, he cupped her cheek. __"I__'__m sorry," __he mumbled, pecking her lips. He lifted his t-shirt up __— __the t-shirt he hoped wouldn__'__t reek of the sex he__'__d just had with Penelope __— __and showed her the bandages that covered his bruises from being shot in the gut. __"__I got shot on the case. I had to go get prescriptions for pain meds and the traffic was horrible.__"_

_Savannah paled. __"Oh, God!" __she murmured. __"__Why - why didn__'__t you call and tell me?__"_

_He shook his head. __"__I didn__'__t want you to worry,__" __he lied._

_No…__he just didn__'__t want her to know she wasn__'__t the first one he thought of telling._

_His wife wrapped her arms around him. __"I__'__m so glad you__'__re safe," __she whispered against his chest. __"__I don'__t know what I__'__d do without you, Derek.__"_

Not even the clear gleams of love and affection in his wife's eyes could change the facts, though. Finally giving in to his desire for Penelope only intensified the passion that had sprouted up within him once more. Gasoline on his internal fire couldn't have reignited his craving for life more.

So much for a one time quickie with Penelope getting everything out of his system. He wanted her again…and again…and again. The way she touched him while they were in the pool of their passions made him believe she wanted him again, too.

When the elevators dinged open, Derek exited with hasty steps, nearly tripping over himself. The hall was quiet, and he took the opportunity to dash to Penelope's office before anyone could stop him. At her office door, he lifted his fist to knock.

"Yeah, yeah," a voice said behind him. "I'll call you at lunch."

Derek whirled around and found Penelope to be walking toward the door. She dug around in her bag, presumably looking for her keys, and her phone was up to her ear. His eyes went wide, and when she looked up, her eyes grew to the size of doll heads. His heart began to race, and the craving he felt for her started to consume him once more.

"Umm," she stammered, returning her attention to the phone. "Yeah…yeah, no I just dropped…" He watched as she attempted to form words. "I'll call you back, okay? I love you, Sam." Then she hung up, dropping the phone into her bag.

He gulped. Their eyes remained glued to one another, neither of them blinking. Derek held his breath as she approached. When she halted in front of him, he cleared his throat. The scent of her perfume filled his nostrils, and he forced himself to resist pulling her close for a better sniff.

"Can I…can I talk to you?" he murmured. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He really had to force himself not to yank her into his arms and devour her.

Penelope nodded after a long moment. She still appeared hesitant, but at least she would allow him inside.

Unlocking the door to her office with shaking hands, Penelope motioned for him to follow her inside. She closed the door behind her and set her things down. Wringing her hands together, she turned around to face him. Silence filled the space between them, and Derek fought against his raging itch to go to her. When she didn't say anything and he couldn't find words, he finally stepped closer to her. He rested his hands on her forearms.

"We can't do this," she murmured after the long bought of silence.

He nodded. "I know."

Tears filled her eyes. "Savannah is my friend," she murmured. "I can't believe I did this to her. And Sam…"

"I know," he repeated. He cupped her cheek in his large hand. "But I don't regret it." There was a moment of silence once again. "Do you?"

She scoffed. "Of course I do," she snapped.

Wounded, he dropped his hand from her cheek. As he was turning to go though, her hands shot up and grasped his face. She yanked him back towards her and captured his lips in a kiss. He had no choice but to respond. His arms wrapped around her waist, and he pulled her flush against him. His hands moved to caress her breasts, and a small moan filtered out of her throat.

When she broke the kiss, she leaned against him and rested her cheek against his chest. "I do regret it," she whispered.

"Why did you just kiss me again then?" he asked, confused.

Penelope looked up at him once more and kissed him again, her lips barely brushing against his. Nevertheless, it ignited him on fire and made him want her all the more.

"Because part of me doesn't."

And then she pulled him into another kiss and allowed him to lift her onto her desk where they traded fierce kisses back and forth.

XXXXX

_2 Weeks Later_

Aaron's last two weeks consisted of nothing but misery.

Since his kiss with Emily on their case in Montana, he had been unable to think of anything but her. She even took to invading his dreams. He found himself staring aimlessly at her when she wasn't looking. No one seemed to be noticing, least of all Emily.

Distractions seemed to follow her everywhere. She spent hours staring into space, took strange phone calls, looked constantly on edge. He didn't know how to help her.

Even if he knew a way though, she would be unlikely to accept his help.

Glancing out the window of his office, Hotch noticed JJ and Rossi gathered around Reid's desk. They were clearly ready for their briefing, however three of their team were noticeably missing.

Aaron rubbed his forehead, tired. He thanked whatever higher power there was that they had no case. After the last two, he was ready for a night with his son. Keeping track of his team seemed to be getting more difficult by the day. Morgan, while looking less like the zombie he had become over the past few years, seemed constantly distracted and spending more hours at work rather than going home to his wife; Garcia looked like something was tearing at her insides, but he assumed it had to do with Sam being gone on his business trip that would be lasting months.

Then there was Emily.

Sighing, he rose to his feet and gathered his tablet. Time for worrying about the well-being of his team could come later. Exiting his office, he waved his hand to his team. Morgan and Garcia entered the room, and Aaron frowned. Now, they were only missing his ex-wife.

"Anyone seen Prentiss?" Aaron asked. "We've got to start the briefing."

"I'm right here," Emily said as she burst through the doors of the bullpen. She appeared flustered, her cheeks slightly pale and the circles under her eyes were darker. He frowned. "Sorry I'm late. Noah and I both got up late, and the traffic was horrible."

Garcia looked at her with concern and touched Emily's shoulder. "Are you alright?" she murmured softly so that Aaron almost didn't hear it.

Emily nodded to Penelope. "Yeah, I'm fine," she muttered, shaking her coat off and setting it on her desk. "You guys ready to start?"

After the briefing finished and everyone had their assigned case files, they exited to get to work. Morgan and Garcia disappeared to go to their respective offices while the rest of them went to their desks. Aaron watched as Emily sat down tiredly and buried her face in work. Before he disappeared into his office though, someone came into the bullpen carrying a pot of purple flowers. Aaron frowned.

Flowers were not a common delivery in the BAU.

The delivery man looked around. "Emily Prentiss?" he asked.

Emily looked up from her desk, surprised at hearing her name being called so soon after leaving the briefing. Aaron took one look at her expression that crossed her face when she laid eyes on the flowers. Immediately, he knew something had shaken her. He watched as she signed for the flowers.

When she sat down, staring at the flowers with frightened eyes, he tucked his tablet underneath his arm. Going down the steps, he dropped by her desk. She didn't even notice; her gaze never left the flowers.

"Emily?" he asked. He cleared his throat when she didn't respond. "What are those?"

With shaking fingers, her fingers brushed against the purple petals. "They're freesias," she murmured. "Lilac freesias."

Something in her gaze told him this particular flower held significance for her. What though, he didn't know. He touched her shoulder tenderly. She finally looked up at him. Instead of accepting his comfort though, she flinched away from him as if his touch burned her.

"What is it?" he asked, dropping his hand abruptly. He masked his hurt with expertise before she could see how he felt. "Who are those flowers from?"

Jumping to her feet, Emily plastered a smile on her face and grabbed the pot of flowers. "Oh, just from an old friend," she said. "They sent them asking if I would meet up with them."

"You looked really rattled by those," he pressed. "I just want to —"

Emily shook her head and hugged the flower pot to her chest. "I'm, uh…" she interrupted. She took another look at his face and immediately her expression softened. "I'm just feeling a little out of it. I think that's why I woke up late." Aaron tried to speak once more, but she shook her head. "Don't worry about me. Just concentrate on making your night with Noah fun. He really misses you." And then she hurried off, clutching the flowers tightly.

"What was that about?" Reid asked, looking up from his desk. He arched a brow. "Emily seems a little on edge."

_You're telling me, _Aaron thought, bitter.

Rather than voicing what he truly thought, he shook his head and replied, "I have no idea."

XXXXX

_Later That Evening_

"Pizza's here, buddy!" Aaron called to his son after closing the door on the pizza delivery man. He took it into the kitchen and set the box on the table where Noah was finishing up the last few math problems on his homework. Smiling, he opened the pizza box and the aroma of pepperoni and hot cheese filled their nostrils. "How you doing on the homework? Almost done?"

Noah held up his finger to silence his father while he scrawled the last answers on his worksheet. As soon as he dropped the pencil and looked up to smile at his father, his finger of silence turned into a thumbs up.

"All set, Dad!" he chirped. He shoved his homework aside so Aaron could put a plate in front of him.

Aaron dropped a kiss on the top of his son's head. "Good."

When they were both sitting down and food sat on their plates, Noah looked up and frowned at his father. "Dad," he began. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, bud," Aaron said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "What is it?"

Noah sighed heavily, taking a sip of his water before going on. "It's Mom," he said. He looked up to the ceiling and bit his lip. "Well, Mom _again_."

Aaron gulped down his bite of pizza heavily and wiped his mouth with a napkin. Leaning his elbows on the table, he asked, "What's up this time?"

Noah looked up from his pizza. "Well…" he began. "I just don't know what's going on with her. It's like, when we're together, she's there, but she's not. I don't know what to do to make her happy."

_Oh, God_, Aaron thought. _Now this is affecting our son?_

"Well," he told his son. "Your mom has a lot on her plate right now. But you know what?" He arched a brow and waited for Noah's confirmation nod. "Mom loves you more than anyone in the world. There's no one who matters more to her."

"No one?" Noah murmured in wonder. He grinned conspiratorially. "So that means if I ever had a sibling, she would love me best?"

Chuckling, Aaron picked up his slice of pizza once more. Before biting into it, he added, "Buddy, I don't think you have to worry about you having another sibling."

_At least as far as I can tell_, he added silently.


	7. A Bullet In The Brain - Wedding Plans

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thanks so much for the reviews, guys :) We've got the girls again for this one. As you can tell, the Emily storyline is going in a different direction from the show. Some of the elements are the same, others are quite different. This particular story has a bit more buildup than some of my previous ones, so hang in there: more details are coming!**

Lilac freesias.

The very sight of them sent tingles up Emily's spine, and they had since she had been taken from Ian Doyle's estate. Ever since four days ago when the flowers were delivered to her at the BAU, she spent every moment keeping both eyes peeled for more signs of Doyle.

So far, all she had pointing to Doyle were the freesias.

_He knows who I am_, Emily thought, nipping at one of her nails as she stared out the window of the BAU jet. _He doesn't really believe I'm dead._

Leaning back in her chair, she watched the scenery pass below. Sleep wasn't going to come to her and they would land shortly, so she took to fretting about her nemesis. There was no telling when he would strike, but he would come. When he did, there would be only one way to stop him.

A bullet in his brain.

After receiving the freesias, Emily called the rest of her former team. During their conversation, Tsia seemed shocked at the revelation.

"_He sent you flowers?" Tsia exclaimed. "Are you _positive _they were from him?"_

_Emily ran her hand through her hair and breathed deeply. She forced her voice to stay calm and silent so Noah wouldn't hear her from his bedroom. "I'm positive, Tsia," she murmured. "They were the same flowers that grew on his estate when I was undercover with him. I tended to them in the gardens."_

"_If he knows who you are, why hasn't he come after you?" Tsia asked. "Why hasn't he come after any of us? If he knows who you are, he'll know about Jeremy, Clyde, Sean, and I!"_

"_Maybe not," Emily said, biting her thumb nail. "You never met him. I'm the only one who knew him personally. I posed as his lover, I almost married him, I had his —" She halted her speech abruptly before she could say more and confuse her friend with a twelve year old secret._

_Tsia breathed deeply. "I'm going to talk to Jeremy," she said. "We may be in France, but we can at least get in touch with some people who might be able to get us some information on how Doyle found you."_

"_It has to be a mole." Emily continued biting her nail, and suddenly a small burst of pain came from her finger. Wincing, she looked down at her hand and saw a small trail of blood trickling down her skin. She'd bitten her finger so hard in her anxiety to the point of breaking skin._

"_If there's a mole, you can bet we'll find him," Tsia hissed. "You just focus on keeping your son safe right now. We'll call you if we find anything out."_

Even if it had been only three days since hearing from Tsia, Emily hoped she would get word from her former team soon. She was in no mood for playing a game of cat and mouse with Ian Doyle.

The plane started its descent. As it went down through the clouds and the lights of DC became visible, Emily looked away from the window. Her eyes fell upon her hand where she bit herself. The injury looked well on its way to healing, but nevertheless remained red and swollen. She wrung her hands together to quell their shaking. Hotch and Noah were both taking notice to her behavior, and she didn't want them getting hurt.

Biting her nails until they bled and quivering in her own skin wasn't the way to throw them off her trail.

"Em?" a voice murmured.

Emily looked up from her hands to see JJ looking at her with droopy eyes. Her friend smiled at her, sleep heavy in her eyes and still weighing down her lids.

"Yeah?" Emily shot JJ a nervous smile in return.

"Did you get any sleep?" JJ asked, sitting up. "You look exhausted."

Snorting, Emily averted her eyes. She glanced around the jet at the rest of her teammates. They all slept soundly around them. "I…I got an hour or so," she mumbled.

JJ shot her a doubtful look. "Is there something going on?" she asked, her voice soft and airy. "You haven't seemed like yourself lately."

"Oh, God," Emily groaned. "Not you, too!" She rubbed her temples tiredly. "Are you jumping on the same bandwagon as Aaron for being concerned about my wellbeing?"

With a sigh, JJ sat up in her chair and leaned her elbows on the table. "See, this is what I'm talking about," she insisted. "You're on edge constantly, you're snapping at people, you come into work with dark circles under your eyes. You know, if there's anything going on, you can tell us." She gave Emily a comforting smile. "We're a support system. And if it's just a rough time with emotions, I know Garcia would _love _to have a girls night."

Emily couldn't even manage to crack a smile. She stared at JJ, feeling empty inside. Her friend sat before her, an offer to help her with anything going wrong, and she refused to move. No matter how badly she wanted their help, their support, she couldn't.

Not if she wanted to protect them and her son. To keep them safe, they needed to remain in the dark.

"I'm okay, Jayje," she whispered as the plane got closer to the ground. "I'm just…really tired."

_Remember: you're protecting all of them, Prentiss, _she told herself. _You're protecting Aaron and Noah. You're protecting —_

"Alright," JJ said, skeptically. "We're here when you need us. Remember that."

XXXXX

As Emily packed her bag up for the evening before going home to her sun, she started for the door of the bullpen. JJ's words still rang in her head, but Emily shook them away.

_You can't get their help,_ she rehearsed to herself. _Keep them safe. Keep them _all _safe._

"Prentiss?"

Startled, Emily looked in the direction of the voice and found Aaron coming toward her. Paperwork was tucked under his arm, and he looked ready to sit himself down for several hours. She arched a brow.

"Yeah?" she asked.

He halted in front of her. His expression remained guarded. She couldn't blame him; her behavior toward him of late had been nothing but chilly. Not to mention the kiss which confused him as much, if not more, than her.

"We need to get together at some point to talk about Noah's birthday party," he said. "His friends' mothers have called me since they were having trouble getting ahold of her. They want to know details, and all we've done is set a date."

Emily stared at him, her mouth clamped shut. Had she really missed all the calls of her son's friends?

When she didn't respond, he went on. "You do have time, don't you?" he asked.

Swallowing hard, she nodded. "Yeah," she mumbled. "Of course. I've actually wanted to coordinate with you about presents. I already picked up a few, and I just want to make sure we don't get the same things twice over. Garcia also found one that she — and I quote — 'called dibs on' to get for him."

Shaking his head and smirking in amusement, Aaron added, "Okay, that's fine. We can get together at my apartment. I can have him stay overnight at a friend's house while we plan. I'm sure Sam Clemmons' mom would be alright with it."

Emily's lips quirked up in a sour smile. The mother Aaron was talking about was Beth Clemmons, a woman who divorced her husband. Never wanting to admit it was jealousy she felt toward the woman, Emily always blamed her dislike for Beth on her personality being too cheery. "Isn't that the one you dated for a few months?" she asked. "Beth was her name?"

Clearing his throat, Aaron nodded. "Yeah," he muttered. "I dated her for a little while."

"I'm sure she'd _love _to have Noah over then," Emily snapped, hoping snark would cover her jealousy.

Aaron shot her a hard, annoyed stare. "Yeah," he said. "So…I'll just do that." Giving her another odd look, he nodded once more. "Good night. I'll see you tomorrow."

She merely nodded back to him before turning to leave the bullpen. As she made her way to the elevator on exhausted feet, she ran smack into Garcia. Penelope stared at her teal zebra striped shoes, her face pale. Rarely did Penelope Garcia lack color in her cheeks.

Frowning, Emily walked up to her friend and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Garcia?" she asked.

Penelope's eyes shot upwards as she jumped. She glanced at Emily and shot her a wry smile. "Hey, Prentiss," she murmured. "What's up?"

Emily smirked and arched a brow. "You're awfully lackluster tonight," she remarked, standing beside Penelope. "What's going on?" Before Penelope responded, the elevator bell rang. The doors opened, and they stepped inside together. Emily pressed the button to the garage level. When the doors closed once more and she glanced at her friend again, Penelope's eyes lay on her shoes once more. Touching Garcia's shoulder again, Emily repeated her question. "Penelope? What's wrong?"

Glancing up at Emily once more, Penelope gave a sharp, fake grin. "Oh, I'm fine," she said, waving her hand in dismissal. "I — I just miss Sam. He's been gone too long." She sighed. "I'd better buckle down because it will be a long time before I see him again."

Something about her expression registered strange in Emily's mind, but the moment her phone rang, she became unconcerned with all around her. She dug hastily into her bag to grab her phone. She needed to answer it if it were Tsia with any of her promised information.

However, the moment she put the phone to her ear, her heart rate slowed. It was only the nanny. That would be an easy enough call to take.

XXXXX

"_Mom! Mom, look at how far away Dad is from me!" Noah hollered with happiness as he and Aaron stood in the yard of their home. The day was nothing short of idyllic with the sun shining down on their skins as they tossed the ball around and a soft wind rustling the trees and the hair on their brows._

_Emily lounged on the front porch of their house, a smile resting upon her lips as she watched her husband and son toss a baseball back and forth. She raised her hand to wave at them._

"_Looking good, boys!" she called back. "But don't forget that your brother is coming out to play, too." As if on cue, the sound of a door opening came from behind her. She turned around to face the door to their home, hoping to see her other child standing there to join them._

_And he was. However, the smile fell from Emily's face instantly._

_Standing behind her son, a wide grin covering his face, stood Ian Doyle. His broad hands rested on her son's shoulders, and his smile sent shivers down her spine. Her son remained still, with his blue eyes staring at her blankly and his blonde curls tucked behind his ears. He trembled with fear beneath Doyle's hands, but stayed silent._

_Suddenly, Emily's warm day turned frigid as a blizzard-ridden night. The sun disappeared, and the gentle wind picked up to what felt like hurricane speeds._

"_No!" she gasped, barely able to get her voice loud enough to be heard over the roaring wind. "No, he was safe!"_

_Doyle shook his head, his devilish smile still lighting up his face. "None of them were safe," he growled. "Not with _you_ in their lives."_

_Whirling around, Emily choked on a scream. Both Aaron and Noah lay on the ground right in front of the porch. The color in their skins was gone, and their eyes stared upwards at nothing, completely lifeless._

_Tears streamed down her face as she fell to her knees at the sight of her family. "No!" she screeched, running her hands through her hair as she yanked at it by the roots. She looked up at Doyle once more, and to her horror, her other child lay at his feet. He looked exactly the way Aaron and Noah did. Her voice grew to an inhuman cry of despair._

"_I told you, Lauren," Doyle told her, stepping over the body of her son to get closer to her. "None of them were safe. No one you love is safe."_

Sitting upright in bed, Emily breathed in deep gasps. Her sheets tangled around her legs, and sweat pooled on her forehead. The dream she'd awoken from caused her to feel sick and shaken. Doyle's face as she stared at the lifeless bodies of her family stayed glued to the back of her eyelids. When she blinked, his devilish grin remained there.

Falling back against her pillows, she wiped her cheeks that were sticky with hot tears. With a sniffle, Emily hugged her comforter to her chest. She wanted the dream to disappear from her memory, but it didn't go away.

_How long until this stops? _she thought to herself, tears continuing to roll down her cheeks.

She knew the answer to her question, though. It wouldn't end until Ian Doyle had a bullet in his brain.

XXXXX

Sitting on her couch, Penelope stared up at the ceiling of her apartment. Her heart raced, and her skin tingled with anticipation. Derek's face filled her mind as she closed her eyes. The imagined feel of his hands coursing up her thighs lit her blood stream on fire. Her mouth watered at the memory of how he tasted, and she sighed.

_I can't want him like this_, she scolded herself.

Of course, this scolding was hardly the first time she told herself she could not feel attracted to Derek. Two weeks ago, she and Morgan had sex in her office. Since then, she refused to allow herself to do any more than wrap her arms around him and kiss the life out of him.

So far, she'd kissed him enough to end dozens of lifetimes.

Her warnings to herself and her guilt didn't stand a chance of halting her desires, though. She wanted Derek again…and again…and again.

As her mind raced with thoughts of Derek's hands on her breasts, her cell phone rang to draw her out of her trance. Her eyes snapped open, and she rubbed her temples before picking up her phone.

She gulped. The caller ID read _Savannah Morgan._

Hesitantly, she brought her phone to her ear and answered. "Hello?" she croaked.

"Penelope!" Savannah chirped. "How are you?"

_Oh, fine,_ Penelope thought. _Just thinking about how much I want your husband to take me on my desk again._

Out loud, she laughed. "I'm fine," she responded. "I'm just a little tired is all. It was a long day." Her laughter turned nervous, and she prayed her guilt wouldn't shine through. No way in hell did she want to ruin Savannah's life by having her _discover _her husband's infidelity. "How're you?"

"I'm good!" Savannah replied. "I'm just spending some time looking at wedding planning things since Derek isn't gonna be home for a little while. When'd you say Sam would be back? I've found a few other possibilities for ceremony locations since we're moving it up several months."

Glancing at the clock, Penelope frowned. It was almost eight in the evening, and the BAU's day had ended at an unusual seven. Derek should have been home with his wife by now.

"Did Derek say what he was up to?" Penelope asked, curious. Hurriedly, she added, "I just ask because we got done earlier."

"Oh, I know," Savannah responded, flippant and carefree. "He said that your Section Chief had assigned him a separate project he may be working on for a few weeks. So until then, I decided I'd work on wedding stuff."

Penelope frowned. She had no idea what "separate project" Derek had going on right now. What the hell could he possibly be doing if he wasn't at work? "Oh…" Penelope murmured. "Well…tell me about which are your favorites. I can call Sam and tell him about whatever sounds best."

"Excellent!" Savannah said.

As Savannah prattled on about wedding locations, Penelope took notes and listened. Only half her heart was in it, though. The other part of her couldn't stop feeling guilty for speaking to the woman whose husband she'd just slept with. Her insides squirmed and boiled with discomfort. This was a _friend _she was speaking with on the phone, and she betrayed that friendship in one of the worst ways possible. Tears filled her eyes as Savannah continued speaking, and gradually Penelope's focus did drift from the conversation and toward the pit in her gut.

_How could I do this to her_? she thought.

"So which is your favorite?"

Penelope blinked several times when Savannah asked her question. Had she listened to enough to know which was her favorite? "Well…" she mumbled. "Umm, I guess I —"

Before she could finish her jumbled , a sharp rap sounded from her front door. She sat up and frowned. Who the hell could be knocking right now?

"Penelope, is something wrong?" Savannah asked, concerned. "You got all quiet."

Rising to her feet, Penelope responded to Savannah, "I've got someone at the door. Can I call you back?"

"Oh, of course," Savannah said. "Call me back whenever you can. Let me know what Sam says, too. Have a good night, sweetheart!"

"Bye, Savannah," Penelope said, absentminded. She tossed her phone onto the couch and started to the door. When she swung the door open, Derek stood before her. His hands rested in his pockets, and he gazed directly at her with dark eyes. She stared at him, her heart immediately taking off at a rabbit's pace.

So _this _was his "separate project" he told Savannah about.

They continued staring at one another, unmoving. Penelope's body temperature started to rise. She couldn't escape the look in his eyes, the look so full of heated desire that it made her tremble with longing. Her eyes fell on his lips, and she wanted nothing more than to have those lips devour her, suckle on her neck.

An internal battle raged within her over what she wanted and what she should do. Sam came to mind, but so did the feeling of being utterly consumed by Derek. She remembered the earthy taste of his mouth and the primal energy flowing between their bodies. She remembered it, and she wanted more.

In the end, her desires beat out her reservations. She wanted him too much.

Stepping forward, Penelope grabbed the collar of his jacket and yanked him inside. She crashed their lips together and sighed against his mouth as his tongue thrust its way in against hers. Using his foot, he kicked the door closed behind them. He backed her into her couch, and they collapsed in a heap on the cushions. His kisses burned into her skin, making her moan. She grabbed his hands and forced him to grasp her breasts. From their previous encounters in their offices, she remembered loving how he touched her there.

Derek understood exactly what she wanted and played her like a fiddle. Pushing him backwards and off of her, she sat up to grab the hem of his shirt so she could pull it up over his shoulders. As soon as his shirt was off and she could see his bare chest, she dove for him. Her lips fell to the fiery heat of his sternum, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His body, his scent made it impossible for her to function.

All she needed was him. Him and him alone.

His fingers tangled in her hair, and she growled when he gave a gentle tug of it. Swinging her leg over his lap, she straddled his hips and buried her face against against his neck. She nibbled on his skin, running her hands up and down his chest. Next, she slid her hand beneath his belt to trace her nails just at the top of his groin.

"God, Baby Girl," he hissed, digging his fingers into her back. "Touch me."

She let out a devilish cackle. "Patience is a virtue," she hummed. "You have to wait until I'm ready for that."

Derek laughed. "Hell if I do," he growled, stopping to leap to his feet so she was in his arms. She yelped as he carried her to her bedroom, laying her on the bed while he kissed her. Standing back, he stared at her as he unbuckled his belt. His eyes coasted up and down her still dressed body, and she knew he wanted her, even with her t-shirt and sweatpants on.

And that made her feel goddamn beautiful.

No one, not even the man she said yes to marrying, looked at her the way Derek Morgan looked at her.

Penelope sat up on her elbows and gave him a husky look before removing her own shirt. All she wore beneath her tank top was a camisole, and her breasts didn't have the lift they had when first he took of her shirt. For a split second, worry filled her heart that he wouldn't find her as desirable.

But nothing in his gaze told her he cared. His desire remained unchanged. He leaned forward and ripped the shirt from her body, baring her breasts to him. His hands cupped both of them, and his lips descended to one of her pointed nipples. A gasp escaped her mouth as his teeth grazed the sensitive nipples. She pushed his head deeper into her chest, demanding more.

"Morgan!" she cried as he went on devouring her. "Don't stop! Christ, don't stop!"

He looked up at her and caressed her cheek with an unnatural gentleness. "Never," he murmured, kissing her again. Then he dove in again for another kiss, and she knew nothing else mattered to him at that moment.

Nothing else mattered to her either. Everything disappeared but the feel of his skin and the heat of his passion.

Pulling him closer, she allowed him to slide her out of sweatpants. Nothing felt better to her. As soon as her pants got thrown to the ground, he dug his fingers into her panties and stroked her wet and ready center. She moaned and arched her back, letting him continue to massage her. Without hesitation, she began to ride his hand in her search for her completion.

"I'm so close to coming," she breathed to him. "Please let me come, Derek."

Abruptly, though, he halted and removed his hand from her panties. She glared at him, gaping as he stepped back and started to shuck his pants. When he gave her a wicked grin, she knew he had something in store. After he kicked his pants away and his thick erection stood in front of her, he crawled atop her and positioned himself between her thighs.

"We're coming together," he murmured, kissing down her jawline. Then he pushed inside her, causing both of them to groan. He arched his back and gritted his teeth. "Shit, you're tight!"

Penelope laughed. "I'm surprised I can take all you," she said, wrapping her legs around his hips.

Derek started to move within her, rocking his hips slowly. That puzzled her; this was no dirty quickie, this wasn't fucking. This was almost as if he was making love to her.

But soon it didn't matter to her. Soon, all she cared about became the slow buildup to one fantastic orgasm. Her nails dug into his shoulder blades, digging deep trenches. "Oh, hell," she repeated over and over. "I'm so close! Keep it up, Baby!"

He didn't respond verbally; all he did was kiss her and thrust deeper into her so their hips touched bone to bone. Suddenly, her heart started to race. She knew a climax neared, and she knew this would be a strong one.

"You ready to come, Baby?" Derek growled in her ear.

"Yes!" she cried in response. "Make me come!"

Crashing their lips together once more, he pushed twice more into her so her walls clenched around him. She came in an intense, hurricane-wind strong climax that shook her to her very core. A scream escaped her lips, and moments later his own orgasm ripped spilled into her. He collapsed beside her and pulled her close to his side. His hand ran up and down her upper arm, and they lay there quietly. The silence of the room covered them like a sheet, and this time, Penelope didn't allow any thoughts to invade her head.

She merely let the heat of his body consume her and quell her guilt…at least for a little while.


	8. Close Call - Frustrations

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Here's the next one of this tale. As many of you have noted to me, Emily, Derek, and Penelope are digging themselves into holes with Hotch sort of helpless on the sideline. Have no fear though! They'll get through it. Here's another with the guys' POVs. Thank you so much for the reviews :) Your encouragement keeps me typing!**

"We really can't do this."

Penelope's whisper in his ear, despite her words, sent a shiver of excitement up Derek's spine. The sound of her voice had always soothed him, but now that their relationship was something different, it caused a deeper reaction that shook him to the core. He didn't know how all of this could start from just a dream deep in the night, but the lustful feelings from that first fantasy were only getting stronger.

He ran the tips of his fingers in patterns across Penelope's upper arm and kissed the top of her head. Her hand rested on his sternum as she leaned into his side. They lay beneath the sheets in Penelope's dimly lit room, both of them staring at the ceiling.

"We've done it twice," he pointed out, his voice a soft murmur. His fingers played with the tips of her blonde hair. Somehow, the remote possibility that she was having second thoughts about this made him quake with fear. Unconsciously, he pulled her closer to him. He cradled the supple warmth of her flesh in his arms as he rolled onto his side to face her.

She turned over so she looked him directly in the eyes. Her fingers stroked the lines of his goatee, and she let out a shaky sigh. Pulling her closer, he bestowed a soft kiss on her lips. Again, the raspberry mint of her mouth drew him into a trap. Her lips had become his very own garden of Eden that he damn well didn't want to get kicked out of.

"Don't you feel guilty at all?" she murmured, breaking their kiss. She rested her forehead against his, cupping his cheek. "You told me you didn't regret it after the first time."

Derek shook his head, brushing his lips against her palm. "I feel guilty for not feeling _more _guilty," he admitted. Truthfully, he thought about what he was doing to his wife quite often. He hated the fact what he was doing would hurt her. It wasn't Savannah's fault he felt this way about Penelope, and he knew his wife would be destroyed by something like infidelity. She was too soft for hurt this horrible.

But if he and Penelope kept this a secret until they could get whatever _this_ was out of their systems, they could avoid hurting Sam and Savannah.

"Why did this happen now?" she wondered aloud. "Why are we feeling this way ten years _after _we met?"

Derek didn't say anything. That was a good question. Why _did_ they start sleeping together so late in their friendship? He didn't have an answer for her. Hell, he didn't have an answer for himself.

All he could comprehend was the intense heat of her body, and his desire to keep her in his arms.

"I don't know," he answered. "I just know that I can't stop thinking about you…about _this_." One of his hands moved to rest on her hip. She closed her eyes, pinching them shut as if to exorcise a thought from her brain.

"You can't say that," she scolded.

He shook his head and pulled her even tighter to his chest. Her breasts crushed up against him, pointed nipples budding against his chest. "What we're doing? It makes me feel more alive than anything else in my life for the past few years."

Her eyes widened. Color drained from her cheeks. "You especially can't say _that_!" she gasped, shocked. "What we've done? It's so, so wrong! We're the worst type of people for doing this."

Derek kissed her once more and moved some of her tousled hair from her face. "Maybe what we need is this right now," he murmured. "Maybe if we take care of…whatever _this _is, we can fall back in love with Sam and Savannah."

Penelope looked at him, skeptical. She arched a brow and sighed. "I hope you're right," she whispered. Then she pecked his lips and wrapped her arm around his waist.

Ten minutes later, she was kissing him goodbye as he left her apartment.

XXXXX

The next day at noon Derek went to Hotch's office to deliver files. He strode with confidence to his unit chief's office with a folder full of finished case reports. Knocking on the door, he waited for Hotch's muffled answer for him to come in.

"Hey, Hotch," Derek said, opening the door. "I've got these reports finished for you." He stepped inside the office and shut the door behind him. Getting a closer look at Hotch as he dropped his folder on the desk, he frowned.

Hotch looked deeply perturbed about something, and his face sat in a severe frown. He appeared unfazed by Derek getting his work to him. Derek arched an expressive brow and waved his hand in front of his boss' face. Blinking several times, Hotch finally looked up at him.

"Yeah?" Hotch mumbled, reaching across the desk to pick up Derek's folder. "What's up?"

Derek smirked. "What's up with you?" he asked, plopping down in a chair to face Hotch. "You've been acting weird lately. What's going on?" He snickered and widened his grin. "You got lady troubles?"

Hotch just stared at him. "That would entail I _have _a lady," he muttered. Coughing uncomfortably, he shook his head. "No, I'm fine."

"Bullshit, man," Derek scoffed. "I don't have to be your friend and a profiler to know something's bothering you. So spill." Leaning back in his seat, Derek scrutinized Hotch and waited for an answer.

Rolling his eyes, Hotch gave in with reluctance. "I'm worried about Prentiss," he admitted. "She's been acting strange."

Derek huffed. "I'll say," he grunted. "The other day when we were coming back from the case, she snapped at me for taking the last cup of coffee. I gave in and gave it to her." Seeing Hotch remain silent, though, Derek stopped. "But it's not stuff like snipping about coffee that's worrying you."

Hotch shook his head. "No," he murmured, his eyes flicking to a photo on his desk. "It isn't." He sighed. "It's Em — I mean, _Prentiss_' behavior about everything."

His quick suppression of saying Emily's name didn't surprise Derek. Both Hotch and Prentiss consistently corrected themselves before saying one another's names. It only strengthened the whole team's suspicions that the two harbored feelings for each other as well. Nevertheless, he knew exactly what his unit chief was talking about with Prentiss. She was acting the strangest Derek had ever seen her act.

"I know what you mean," Derek said. "She's been acting strange for awhile now. Any idea what's going on with her?"

"Why would I know?" Hotch asked, his voice sharp.

Derek shrugged. "Well, you were married to her," he pointed out. "You've got a kid with her. I'd say that means you would know her pretty well."

"Morgan, our marriage wasn't exactly a sharing one," Hotch replied. "Our problem was she never told me anything about who she was before she came back to the States. All I know is she was CIA. Imagine how you would feel not knowing anything about Savannah's life, about her refusing to tell you anything about herself."

Keeping his face neutral, Derek merely nodded. He knew about Savannah's life, every part of it. But none of it thrilled him. He didn't find it exciting. Thinking that made him feel worse about his current predicament than he already did, and made him wonder why he'd chosen to marry her.

"Well, I guess the only thing to do now is find a way to help her," he said. "If she'll listen to anyone, she'll listen to you. I don't doubt that."

Hotch shook his head and frowned. "I do," he muttered. "But maybe you're right. I can always try talking to her. We're getting together to talk about Noah's birthday party tonight. I'll see what she'll say this time."

Rising to his feet once more, Derek nodded. "Let me know if I can help," he said. "I can try talking to her, too. We could even have Garcia try it." He tried giving Hotch a wry smile, but it didn't register with the unit chief. Sighing, Derek nodded and left. Hotch never gave much indication of what he had going through his head, and right now was no exception. Derek chose not to push it, deciding to return to his office instead.

When he got to his office door, he halted abruptly. He hadn't closed his blinds before leaving. Pushing open the door, he grinned wolfishly. Sitting on his desk, her long legs crossed in front of her, sat Penelope. She stared at him with an intense gleam in her eyes. He knew exactly why she was here.

Immediately, Derek shut his door firmly behind him, locking it in the process. Striding forward, he went to stand in front of her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, smiling in the process.

"Is it your lunch break?" he teased.

Penelope wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned forward to press her lips to his neck. One of her hands slid up the back of his neck to trace patterns on the back of his head.

"You could call it that," she whispered, nibbling gently on his earlobe. Tingles raced through his skin, and he tightened his hold on her. Gently, the tips of her fingers played with the hem of his shirt, and he growled. Burying his face in her neck, he inhaled the smell of her fruity and tangy perfume.

"Mmm, I like the sound of that, Baby Girl," he said, arching his back when her nails began to trace up his skin.

She leaned back from his neck and looked him in the eyes. "I know you do," she said with a coy smile.

He grinned and captured her lips in a fierce kiss. Their tongues danced in a fierce competition for dominance, and she hooked one of her legs around his thigh. She moaned against his mouth, tightening her grip on his shoulders. Derek gripped her bottom, lifting her off her feet and carrying her to the couch on the other side of his office. They fell backwards, her on top of him and straddling his hips. She fiddled with the top buttons of his shirt, and he arched his back. The feel of her nails tracing lines on his collarbone drove him even more crazy. He wanted to pay her back for each and every touch she gave him. His hands crawled up beneath her skirt, stroking her soft thighs.

"God, keep touching me," she hissed, wrapping herself tighter around him. He grinned and inched his hands up further. She arched her back and bit her lip to contain her cry of ecstasy as he stroked the front of her panties. "Morgan!"

"Kiss me, Baby," he whispered, pulling her back toward him as he tangled his fingers in her hair.

She smiled and obliged him, kissing him directly on the lips. Gyrating her hips, he resisted the urge to groan as he grew harder beneath her. As they traded their kisses back and forth, a jiggling on the locked door distracted them.

"Derek? Derek, are you in there?"

Both Derek and Penelope froze in their tracks at the sound of Savannah's voice. Penelope's eyes grew wide. She looked at Derek with panic and hopped off his lap.

"Just a second, Savannah!" Derek called, rising to his feet and rebuttoning his shirt. "I'll be right out."

"What do we do?" Penelope hissed, adjusting her skirt.

Derek hurried to his desk to grab his phone and his jacket from the back of his chair. Going back to stand in front of Penelope, he cupped her cheek and kissed her softly. She grasped his wrist, kissing him back.

"Go to the corner," he whispered. "I'll leave and keep her out of the room. You leave after I'm gone."

She nodded, a look of sadness covering her face.

Reluctantly, Derek walked to the door and opened it. He grinned widely at his wife. She arched a brow at him as he shut his door swiftly behind him.

"Why was the door locked?" she asked as he slipped his arms into his jacket.

He shrugged and held out his hand to take hers. "Oh, I was just getting some work done uninterrupted," he lied seamlessly. "I wanted to be sure we could go get some lunch together." He grinned. "I was actually on my way to get you at the hospital, but you're here now."

Savannah smiled and squeezed his hand as they went to the elevators. "Well, I just couldn't wait to tell you about this!" she said. "It's a new treatment that I…"

Her voice trailed off from Derek's ears. He nodded along blankly with what she said, but the words didn't register in his ears. What did register, though, was the sight of Penelope leaving his office, just as the elevator doors closed.

XXXXX

Aaron went to his apartment door when the bell rang. Emily took care of dropping Noah off at his friend's house after school. This would be her coming to make party plans. Sure enough, through the keyhole, he saw Emily standing and waiting for entrance. Sighing, he pulled the door open to greet her.

"Hello, Emily," he said, stepping aside to allow her in.

She nodded and came in without a word. He took the opportunity to observe her closer than when he was at work. The circles beneath her eyes grew pronounced with each passing day, and her body language remained tense, like she expected an attack to happen at any second. When she didn't respond, he shrugged and motioned for her to follow him into his living room.

Emily removed her jacket and slung it over the side of the sofa. "Do you have anything to drink?" she asked, looking around the living room nervously. "My mouth is still dry from the sugary sweetness of Beth saying how much she wants to hear from you." She glanced up at Aaron and smirked. "You found a real winner with her, Hotch."

Gritting his teeth, Aaron glared at her. "I told you," he grumbled. "I haven't been seeing Beth, and frankly, I don't plan to see her anymore." Starting for the kitchen, he added, "What do you want to drink?"

"Just a water," she mumbled in reply.

Aaron went to his kitchen and produced a bottled water from his fridge. When he went back to the living room and handed her the bottle, he noticed her nails bitten down to the skin. Tiny pink and red scars dotted the thumb nails where she bit through the skin at one point. He frowned.

"Emily," he murmured as she sat down. His expression softened. He sat down beside her and sighed. "Emily, before we get started with Noah's party…can I ask you —"

Rolling her eyes, she rubbed her forehead and glared at him. "Hotch, I don't want to get into this now. We just need to plan our son's party so I can go home and attempt to get some sleep."

"See, _this _is why I want to figure out what's going on with you!" he grumbled. "You've clearly got something going on, and trying to hide it isn't working for you. Hell, Morgan was in my office this morning asking what was going on with you!"

Emily shot a fierce glare up at him from her seat on the couch. "Can we just focus on planning this party?" she snapped. "I don't have time to debate with you that I'm just sleep deprived."

"Damn it, Emily!" Aaron shouted. "_Everyone _is worried about you, including our son. I'm starting to worry if this is going to affect how you are with Noah."

Leaping to her feet, Emily shoved her finger into his chest. "No!" she hissed. "You don't get to question my parenting, especially when yours is nothing to write home about!"

Her words stung like he'd been stabbed with a red hot poker. Keeping his emotions in check, he intensified his glare. "Don't lecture me then if you don't want me going after you. I'm just going to say it: you are a danger to Noah when you're like this. Does that not matter for you?"

He regretted his words immediately. He knew Emily loved their son more than any other person in the world, and to ask her something like what he just had was the worst form of insult.

Fury clouded her face. Raising her hand, she slapped him swiftly across the face. "How dare you?" she thundered. "Noah is the most important thing in my life. Don't ever question that!"

Aaron shook his head, averting his eyes. "I'm sor —"

Emily charged on. "How could you say that?" she cried. "How could you even think that? I would do anything for my son. I would die for him. So whatever you think is going on with me, shove it up your ass and forget about it!"

Both of them stared at one another, neither of them uttering another word. Their eyes stayed locked on one another's. Fire shone behind Emily's gaze, and Aaron could tell she couldn't stop the onslaught of fiery anger she felt. He saw what he too felt. Everything flowing through him tasted of searing frustration and confusion. Emily's clear dismissal of his concerns and denial of her blatant difficulties with whatever it was she was dealing with only strengthened his emotions.

But even if he was pissed as hell at her, he couldn't help but acknowledge his feelings for her. Even blazing mad at her, he still couldn't stop his love from seeping back through him. He tried staying put, tried to keep himself rooted to the ground, but it was to no avail. His eyes rested on her mouth, moving slowly to the swelling of her breasts as she breathed angrily.

He lost all control of himself.

Stepping forward, he pulled her toward him by the hips. His mouth captured her lips in a fiery kiss.

Immediately, she responded by kissing him back. Her lips tasted angry and incredible against his. He couldn't resist her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and yanked him closer for better access to his mouth. His tongue stroked against hers, and he noticed the taste of mint in her mouth. When her nails latched into his back, a shiver of pure electricity shot up his spine.

Angrily, she pushed him back onto the couch so she could straddle his hips. Her lips seared onto his skin, and he tossed his head back with a groan. "Emily," he murmured, running his hands through her hair.

Emily didn't say anything; she kept trailing kisses along his jawline. Her lips returned to his, and she moaned when his hands cupped her breasts and squeezed. All he wanted against his skin was hers. She moaned against his mouth. The sound alone caused him to yank her t-shirt upwards so he could remove it. She wore a simple chocolate brown bra, and his fingers crept beneath the cups to pinch her nipples.

"Aaron!" she moaned, hands going to cup the back of his neck.

The sound of his name on her lips made his cock strain harder against his pants. He let her take command of him, making him a puddle of goo in her grasp. Rising to his feet, he cradled her against his body and strode to his bedroom. They kissed the whole way there. When they got to the bed, he let himself fall backward so she was once again on top of him.

"You need to get out of your pants," she growled, nibbling on his earlobe. "_Now_."

He nodded his acquiescence and allowed her to fumble with his belt buckle. Lifting his hips, he pushed her off his hips so he could kick his pants off. He pulled his shirt off before sliding back onto the bed to straddle her waist. Her hand slid beneath the waistband of his boxers to grasp his length. The aggressive gesture caused him to groan.

"God, Emily!" he hissed as her hand circled up and down his cock.

Emily glared up at him and removed her hand so she could pull her pants down and slide out of them. She kicked them to the side and spread her legs to give him better access to her.

Years had passed since Aaron gazed at Emily's creamy thighs. He looked into her eyes, dark orbs alight with ferocity, and another thrill of excitement ran through him. The sight of her only made him harder. Leaning down, he massaged her thighs and kissed her soft flesh.

Neither of them spoke a word as he pulled her underwear down her legs. When he tossed them aside, he started to kiss his way up her thigh. She sighed and tangled her fingers in his hair as his mouth got closer to her core. He could smell her arousal. Wet heat reached his lips, and he saw that her juices had started to trickle down her thighs. He wanted to go slowly, but his desires started to take over.

Unable to stop himself, he began suckling on her center, relishing the taste of her. The sounds of her moans filled his ears and drove him onward. His tongue flicked back and forth over her core. She gasped loudly, her fingers tightening in his dark hair.

"Aaron!" she cried.

He continued in his rhythm, recognizing and remembering that Emily's quickening of breath as the sign her climax was near. Hoping to give her the strongest orgasm possible, he waited until she started to scream to slide his tongue inside her. The moment he did, a screech of pleasure erupted from her throat. A flood of wetness from her core followed and coated his tongue.

Rising to his feet, Aaron crawled back onto the bed. Emily lay on her back, breathing heavily. She seemed out of air, desperately trying to fill her lungs oxygen once more. The moment he tried to straddle her hips, she jumped into action. She pushed him backward so he lay flat on his back.

"I get to be on top," she hissed, straddling him.

Aaron didn't object as she slid down onto his erection.

They groaned simultaneously when she was fully seated astride him. Emily began riding him, rocking her hips. Her bra was still on, and he wrapped his arms around her to unhook it, freeing her breasts. The puckering of her nipples thrilled him, and he grasped her hips.

No woman made Aaron feel the way Emily did during sex. Something about the way their eyes connected while making love always sent him into a frenzy that lit his blood stream on fire. She had a way of holding his hands when she sat atop him, and now was no exception. Her nails dug into the skin of his hands, but it excited him all the same.

All the sudden, she slowed her hips down. It struck him like a semi all the same, though. He groaned as she slid up and down his cock. Sliding his free hand between their sweat-slicked bodies, he stroked her center, starting a consistent rhythm that made her toss her head up and arch her back.

Aaron was even less verbal during sex than out of the bedroom, but he couldn't contain his deep groan of pleasure when he began to come in thick spurts within her. Above him, Emily's eyes closed and remained shut as she let out a sharp gasp. When she opened her eyes, she stared back down at him. Their eyes glued together, and they gazed at each other unblinking.

Lifting his hand up, Aaron brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. He looked at her and swore he saw tears shimmering in her eyes. But one blink of his eyes, and that feeling faded away. Without a sound, she fell forward against his chest. Her head rested beneath his chin, allowing him to inhale the scent of her shampoo. He wanted to stay like this for the rest of eternity, wrapped around her without possibility of escape.

He wanted to stay awake, to preserve this moment as long as he could.

Gradually though, his eyes began to flutter shut, and he couldn't save himself from sleep.


	9. Memories - Spending the Night

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thanks so much for the reviews, everyone :) I'm thrilled to see you're enjoying it. We've got the girls' POVs now, and this is a MAJOR Emily one. Leave a review if you want, and I hope you like this one.**

She felt warm, as if she were surrounded by sun rays. Her eyes remained closed, but she still felt all the comfort in the world. She wanted to stay like this forever, never moving so she could just soak in heat all day like a lizard on a desert rock.

With what felt like a smile dancing on her face, Emily's eyes began to flutter open. As sleep started to drift away and her vision became clearer, her smile reformed into a frown. She didn't recognize her surroundings. These walls were a different color than her bedroom, and the sheets didn't have the same feel as the ones on her bed.

At first she couldn't remember what the hell happened that led her to this bed.

After blinking at the wall for several minutes, the memories came flooding back in waves. The plan to work on Noah's birthday party with Aaron, the feel of his hands roaming the expanse of her body, his lips burning into her skin.

Her eyes went wide. As soon as the realization of the night before struck her, a warm body radiated heat behind her. She turned onto her other side ever so slowly. Laying next to her, breathing steadily as he slept on, was Aaron.

With her stomach churning, the room began to close in on her. Her heart started to race. To complement her rabbit-like heart, her head pounded within the confines of her skull.

_What the hell did I do?_ she screamed at herself inside her head.

Quiet as she could, she slid out of the sheets. Her eyes darted around the room in a desperate attempt to find her clothes. Thankfully, they lay on the floor on her side of the bed. Hurriedly, she slid into them, ignoring her bra and underwear. She could stuff those in her purse, and save herself several seconds to get out faster.

However, before she dashed from the room, her eyes fell on Aaron. Her heart began to act up again. This time, though, it was a tearing pain. He remained in his sound slumber, looking peaceful in the early dawn light filtering through the windows.

_I shouldn't have done this_, she thought mournfully. Aaron wouldn't show it — she knew that for a fact — but this would hurt him. On top of everything she'd been putting him through, this would only hurt more.

Tears burned at the back of her eyes, but she blinked them away. She couldn't cry. She put herself in this situation. This was her fault.

Without a single look back at Aaron, Emily tore from the room on silent feet. She reached the living room and grabbed her things so she could hurry from the apartment. As she exited the building and into the chilly morning air, a ringing noise broke through the otherwise peaceful dawn.

Startled, she jumped. When she looked at her purse, she realized it was merely her cell phone ringing. Rolling her eyes at herself, she dug into the bag and retrieved it as she strode her way to her car.

"Hello?" she answered swiftly, sliding into the driver's seat.

"Emily!"

Emily paused for a moment when she heard Tsia's breathless hiss into the phone. "Tsia?" she asked. "Tsia, what's wrong?"

"It's Jeremy," Tsia murmured. Her voice sounded as if she were shielding herself from tears. "He's _dead_!"

Blood going cold, Emily dropped her keys. They jingled on her lap, and her hands started to shake. Jeremy Wolff was on her team when she'd gone undercover to infiltrate Ian Doyle's operation. He and Tsia ended up starting a relationship shortly after the team broke up.

Covering her mouth, Emily held her breath. "He's dead?" she breathed.

"They said he died of natural causes," Tsia said, her voice shaking. "He came back from his morning run and when he got in the shower, he just…he just _collapsed!"_

Emily rubbed her face. Jeremy's death was no accident. This meant Doyle decided to start moving.

"He's moving in on us," Emily murmured.

"How could Doyle have known who he is?" Tsia cried. "How would he have found out?"

Emily shook her head. "It looks like there's a mole," she said. More frantically, she added, "Tsia, I want you to listen to me. I want you to get out of Europe. Come back to the States where you can be safe. You hear me?"

"I hear you," Tsia whispered hoarsely. "I'll get on the first flight I can."

"Good," Emily said. "Stay safe."

Hanging up the phone without waiting for a farewell from Tsia, Emily picked up her keys and started the car. Knuckles going white, she grasped the steering wheel. She had two hours before she needed to pick up Noah from his friend's house. She drove to the nearest coffee shop she could think of and bought a cup of coffee.

As she sat in her car, sipping the searing hot coffee, her thoughts drifted to Ian Doyle. He had chosen to strike slow and meticulous. One member of her former international terrorist hunting team was dead, and he'd chosen to do it a month after his escape from prison.

She knew Doyle. She knew he was doing this to try and scare her. The key to surviving would be to outsmart him. Her biggest concern remained Noah, though. Her insides quivered and quaked at the thought of Doyle going near him.

If Doyle knew who she was, he knew she had Noah. To keep her son safe, she needed to wait for Doyle to show himself. And as soon as he revealed where he was, she would go to him.

_Remember though_, a voice said in the back of her head, _it's not Noah he wants._

With her stomach churning even more, Emily took a long gulp of her coffee. She ignored the burning on her tongue. The worries plaguing her made it impossible to notice her scalded tastebuds. Her mind began to wander, and gradually she found herself falling back into a memory she'd long ago filed away.

"_Boo!"_

_The laughter of a three year old filled the room as Emily pounced behind him. He giggled as Emily lifted him off his feet and kissed the top of his head. She set him back down on his feet and ruffled the blonde curls on the top of his head._

_He turned around and grinned up at her. "When's Daddy coming home?" he asked._

_Emily knelt down in front of him, kissing his cheek. "He'll be home soon, Declan," she murmured. "And when he gets here, we'll all play a game of hide and seek. That sound good?"_

"_Yes!" Declan exclaimed, clapping his small hands together. Giving her a bashful smile, he added, "I love you, Mommy."_

_Smiling, Emily drew her son into her arms and held him tightly. "I love you, too, sweetheart," she whispered._

_Three years ago when she'd discovered her pregnancy, her whole operation with Ian Doyle changed. No longer did she just have to find a way to take his terrorist operation down, but she needed to protect her son, her son who only Sean knew about. Interpol's investigation into Doyle became a much more lengthy process than it originally would have been._

_To keep Declan safe, though, she would spend as many years undercover as she possibly could._

_Of late, Ian was becoming more and more dangerous. His activities with the IRA were getting more destructive, his enemies piling up. If any of them discovered Declan's existence, his life would be in mortal danger. With each passing day, she feared someone would come and snatch her child away from her._

_She needed to get Declan to safety and away from his father who would only place him in harms way._

_She needed to find a way to save her son._

Snapping back to reality, Emily blinked several times at the realization her cheeks were stained with salty tears. She shook her head. Getting caught up with memories had broken the floodgates she'd built up over the years. Doyle's resurfacing put cracks in that dam, and now the memory of the son she lost broke everything completely. She wiped her face to rid herself of the tears, and took a shaky breath.

_Keep it together, Prentiss_, she shouted at herself. _You'll figure out a way to do this…you'll find him._

She would find a way to save her son.

Both of them.

XXXXX

"I had another nightmare about Buford last night," Derek admitted.

Penelope gazed up at him with sadness in her eyes. It was nine in the evening, and most of the team had gone home for the night. Derek and she sat on the couch in his office. She leaned against him, her feet up on the couch. Her head rested against his chest, and she held him around the waist.

This was just like what they did before their affair began. They would sit with one another to talk for hours and admit their darkest fears. It gave them a way to support each other when life became too hard to go through alone. Derek's nightmares came up frequently, and Penelope did all she could to try and ease his pain.

"What happened in it?" she murmured. She knew Derek's nightmares plagued him every few nights. This wasn't the first time she listened to him tell her about the nightmares. He never showed that he had them on the surface, but she'd always been able to tell.

Derek remained quiet for a long moment before taking a deep breath. "He was standing over some kids," he began. "They begged him to stop hurting them. They cried and cried, but it didn't do anything. Then they were dead, and he just…he was just _laughing_. And then he looked up at me, and told me I was next." He shook his head and kissed the top of her head. "I couldn't do anything. It just makes me think that I failed all those kids who he hurt other than me…all because I didn't tell anyone."

Sitting up so she was directly on his lap, Penelope grasped his face and looked him in the eye. "You haven't failed anyone," she told him. "You can't save everyone, Chocolate Mousse." She gave him a soft kiss on his lips, hoping it would loosen his tongue for him to tell her more.

Ashamed, he moved his face away and closed his eyes. "But I knew what he did!" he growled. "I knew he was hurting boys all those years, and I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want anyone knowing about _me_. I was a coward."

She took his hand. "No," she asserted. "You're _not _a coward. Don't even think that. You're the bravest person I know." She smiled. When he gave her an odd smile, but didn't say anything, she giggled nervously. "What? What's that look for?"

With a chuckle, he pecked her lips. "You just make me think, that's all," he murmured.

She arched a brow. "About?" she asked.

He grinned and pulled her up closer to him their lips were a mere few inches apart. Her breath caught in her chest at the abrupt jerking of his arms. The scent of his natural earthy aroma, mixed with faint scent of his cologne, filled her nose. She inhaled deeply, savoring his smell. His lips parted slightly, revealing the perfect teeth she could gaze at without blinking for hours. When his hands grasped her breasts and squeezed, her eyes fluttered shut as she gasped deeply. Her nipples grew hard instantly, and she felt herself growing wet.

"That I can maybe try to be a little easier on myself," he answered.

"That's my job," she teased, tracing the lines of his goatee. "I'm your best friend. I can't let you go through life without giving a pep talk every once in awhile."

He growled low in his throat and started to snake his right hand up her skirt. His hands massaged slowly up her flesh, and as they kissed, a warning light went off in her head. Breaking the kiss, she glanced at the clock and her eyes went wide.

"Derek," she murmured.

He continued trailing his lips down her throat and moving his hands further up her legs to her. "Mmm?" he hummed against the soft flesh of her throat.

"Derek, shouldn't you be getting home?" she asked. "We don't want Savannah —"

His lips left her neck so he could speak. "She's got the night shift tonight," he said, moving so Penelope sat on the couch and he could move to kneel on the floor in front of her.

She arched a brow, but when his eyes met hers, she knew exactly what he was doing. Excited, she moved to the edge of the couch to give him easier access to the warm and wet are between her legs.

Sam performed oral sex on her exactly once in their relationship, and he'd not done it very well. In their affair, Derek had gone down on her every time save for their first hurried lovemaking. And he did it masterfully. He played her like an orchestra, and each time she came after a massive crescendo.

She had asked him why he loved giving it to her so much. His response was simple.

_Baby Girl, you taste so damn good, I don't think I'll ever get enough._

Those words certainly made her feel beautiful.

Pushing her skirt up, Derek kissed the skin just above the band of her underwear. A shiver ran up Penelope's spine, and a breathy sigh escaped her lips. He stroked the front of her center. Though a layer of lacy underwear obstructed his way to her core, his strokes still managed to make her clit tingle with excitement.

Abruptly though, he ripped her thong. The fabric tore without objection, and she forced herself to cover her mouth to keep herself from screaming with excitement. She couldn't believe herself for getting this excited about a torn pair of underwear. Yet here she sat, her heart racing with anticipation.

Derek licked his lips, glancing up at her with hunger before returning his attention to her pussy. His tongue flicked back and forth over her clit, giving her a slow build up to the fabulous orgasm she craved.

"Oh, God!" Penelope cried. Her hands dove for his head, pushing him further between her legs as she waited for him to take her to completion. The sound of her desperation must have gotten to him, and he increased the speed of his tongue. She hoped if she spoke again he might let her come. "So, so close!"

And he did. As soon as she spoke, he halted the flicking of his tongue. His lips clamped down around her core, causing a flush of wetness to flow from her. She gasped. When he looked up from her, a grin on his face and her juices coating his lips, she sighed happily and moved forward from her seat to push him backwards so he fell onto the floor. She straddled his waist with jelly legs and kissed him.

He laughed and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her back fiercely. As she sat astride him, kissing him and running her hands up his shirt so she stroked his perfectly sculpted abdomen, a strange feeling stirred in her.

She felt…_happy._

Being wrapped in his arms, having his kisses burn imprints into her skin, sneaking around to find their completion…it made her insides stir in a way that made her feel passion once more. She knew as soon as his arms were no longer around her that her overwhelming guilt would encompass her to the point she wanted to cry. But for now, she didn't care.

All that mattered was Derek and the fire he ignited in her.

As they kissed like teenagers in heat on the floor of his office, Penelope's phone _bleep_ed on the desk. Sitting up on Derek's hips, Penelope leaned up to grasp for the phone. He grunted in protest at the loss of her body heat, but made no move to stop her. Moving her tousled hair from her face, Penelope read the text and frowned.

It was from Emily.

_Need your help with something ASAP. Your stuff is in your office, but you're not in here. Can you meet me?_

"Who is it?" Derek asked, reaching up beneath her shirt to touch the skin of her belly.

She sent a reply back to Emily, worried. "It's Prentiss," she murmured, sliding off of Derek and rising to her feet. "She needs my help with something."

Derek, still laying on his back on the floor, frowned as well. "What with? We're all done for the day."

Penelope moved around the room to find her shoes and shrugged. "I have no idea," she said. "But she said _ASAP _in it. I'm gonna go see what's up." She sat down in one of the chairs facing Derek's desk and started doing the straps of her high heels. As she did, Derek got up off the floor and went to stand in front of her. He looked like a wounded puppy dog when she glanced up at him. She smirked. "What?"

Cupping her cheeks, Derek leaned down and kissed her. "Savannah won't be home until tomorrow morning when I leave to come here for my workout," he murmured.

She arched a brow. "So?"

"I want to spend the night with you."

Keeping her face neutral, Penelope blinked at him. First they started sleeping together, now he wanted to spend the night?

He would tire of her sooner than she thought. All the sex they were having, they were bound to get whatever was in their systems out soon.

Biting her lip, she nodded and got to her feet. "Okay," she whispered. "I'll text you when I'm leaving. Use your key to get in."

Derek nodded and kissed her once again, his tongue sliding between her teeth and stroking against hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back full-force. She couldn't get enough of him. He filled her brain, sliding into her very essence until he became a part of her.

Had she ever felt this way before, so in tune with someone that they felt as natural as oxygen filling her lungs?

She couldn't think of any time she felt this way.

"I'll see you soon," she whispered, pecking his lips one last time before heading to the door to leave. As soon as she left, shutting the door softly behind her, the all-consuming, gut wrenching feeling of guilt washed over her, just like she expected it would. She walked down the hall and back toward her office. Her heart ripped at the seams as Sam and Savannah entered her mind.

_How can I do this to them_? she thought. _How can Derek do this to his wife_?

An even worse thought entered her mind as she stopped in front of the door to her office.

_I'm the other woman…_

Rubbing her temples, she fought against the war raging in her stomach. She felt green, like she would upchuck whatever food she'd eaten last. She needed to get a grip.

_It's only temporary,_ _Garcia, _she thought to herself. _You won't be the other woman long_.

When she composed herself to her satisfaction, she pushed into her office. Perched on the edge of her desk was Emily. She nibbled on her nails, her gaze trained on the floor. Penelope smiled brightly. "Hey, Em," she said. "What's up?"

Emily finally looked up at her and frowned. "What happened to you?" she asked. "You look like you walked here in a windstorm." She paused. "Your tights are missing, too."

Forcing a smile, Penelope shrugged. "My legs were getting warm," she answered. "And I stepped outside for a bit and some…wind blew my hair all out of whack." She wrung her hands together, praying she seemed convincing enough.

Emily seemed to think nothing was amiss and nodded absentmindedly. "Oh," she said. "Well…" Her voice trailed off. She sighed. "I need your help with something. But…it needs to be between us. No one can know."

Penelope frowned. "Emily, what's wrong?" she asked. "Is this why you've been —"

Holding up her hand, Penelope shook her head fiercely. "No," she snapped. "Just let me tell you what I need, and you can find it. I'm not going to go into details about it. This won't take a night, though. You could be on this for awhile."

Taken aback, Penelope nodded mutely. "Okay," she murmured, going to her desk. "What is it you need help with? I guess I can start by getting the basics tonight, then start the search tomorrow." Pulling out a pen, she got ready to take notes. "Where do we start?"

"I need your help to find a boy," Emily stated simply. She became quiet after that, not saying anymore.

Penelope blinked at Emily patiently. When she received no words, she cleared her throat. "Umm…Em?" she asked. "I'm gonna need a bit more than that. Maybe a name?" She tried to joke, but it fell flat and didn't register with Emily.

Emily nodded, sitting down in a free chair. "His name is Declan," she murmured. "Declan Doyle."


	10. Feeling Remorse - Maybe Not Alone

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Sorry about the delay in getting this out. My new semester started, so I'm kind of busy with that. However, here's the new one! We've got a time jump in store for our four main characters, and the angst continues, especially now that you know Declan is Emily's son. I'm drifting from doing the chapters separated between the girls and the guys; this one includes Derek and Emily's POVs. Thank you so much for the reviews thus far, and I hope you'll continue to enjoy this story.**

**On a different note, the CCOAC Criminal Minds Profiler's Choice Awards for 2014 are going on currently. I'm honored to have five categories on the final ballot: Best Team/Case ("Gone"), Best Angst ("Gone"), Best Garcia/Morgan ("Gone"), Best Post-Episode ("Flirt With Me, Dammit!"), and Best Overall Author (a HUGE shock!). Head on over there to read some of the talented works by all the nominees!**

_4 Months Later_

"_God damn!_" Derek growled through gritted teeth as he came inside Penelope as she rode him. Above him, she arched her back and gasped as she, too, came. Falling forward, she rested her head against his chest.

His time with Penelope had been spectacular. Whenever the team didn't have to travel for a case, Derek managed to find a way to be with her. She made him laugh, she listened to every last fear or thought without judgement, she knew what aroused him most. On the rare nights he managed to stay at her apartment with her, she held him through a nightmare; her arms let him know he was safe and she would never let him go.

With a grin on his face, he kissed the top of her head. He wrapped his arms around her and sighed. With a slight chuckle, he ran his fingers up her spine. Penelope leaned up to look him in the eye. A devilish gleam lit up in her eyes, and she smirked. "What?" she asked.

"You're so incredible, you know that?" he murmured, moving a lock of hair behind her ear.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah," she mumbled. "I know it's great sex."

Cupping her cheek, he shook his head. "No. You're more than great sex. You're my best friend." He gave a wide grin. "The sex ain't bad, though."

Something flashed in her eyes, something he couldn't quite read. But before he could try and decipher the mystery in her wide, doe-like eyes, she leaned forward to peck his lips. She slid off his body, and he grunted at the loss of her body heat and sweet floral scent that was mixed with sex.

"You need to get going," she murmured, sliding her satin robe on. "It's already late as it is." A forlorn look entered her expression, and she gazed at him with sadness in her eyes.

Derek sat up on her bed and cocked his head to study her. Her face began to speak volumes to him. This wasn't the first time he'd seen her look this way in the past five months of their affair. A look so full of guilt and sorrow that it looked like she would buckle over with the pain. He caught glimpses of it during the day when they were around other people, but he'd never seen it when they were together.

When they were together she was happy, the fire that he once saw every day back and burning like a lighthouse in a storm.

Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, he padded across the floor, completely naked, to stand in front of her. He put his arms around her waist and pulled her close. Planting a kiss on her nose, he murmured, "What is it?"

She stiffened in his arms but didn't push him away. "We need to look at slowing down," she admitted after a few moments of silence.

Scoffing, he pulled them backwards so they fell onto the bed. Nuzzling at her neck, he kissed her throat. "Why would we have to do that?" he complained.

She shot him a look. "Derek," she reminded him. "Sam isn't going to be gone forever. His six months is done in one."

The mention of her fiancé sent a flare of what could only be described as jealousy running through his veins. His hold on her tightened, and he pulled her closer. Sam could stay in Europe forever for all he cared. All Derek wanted was for him and Penelope to spend every waking moment wrapped in the others arms.

"Then we'll find somewhere else to do this," he said, confidently.

This time Penelope pulled away. She stared at him, appalled. "Derek," she said. "We _cannot _do this when he gets back. Remember? We decided we weren't doing this any longer than we needed. We were going to stop when we'd…figured things out."

He arched a brow. "And have you _figured things out_?" he challenged. "I know I haven't. I still need you."

She pushed him away and sat up. "See, this is what I don't get about you," she snapped. "You don't seem to feel guilty about this at all! We are _cheating_ on Sam and Savannah! Savannah is your wife, Sam is my fiancé. And you sit here saying we should keep this up even after he gets back! Don't you feel guilty at all?"

Sitting up, he directed an incredulous stare at her. "I don't seem to remember you saying we had to stop this," he argued back, anger raising his blood pressure. "I don't hear you complaining when I'm balls deep in you." He didn't care if he sounded crude. He couldn't believe she would say this to him.

Penelope's eyes narrowed. "The difference between us right now is that _you _don't feel bad at all for what we're doing to them," she growled. "I feel guilty all the time to the point I'm making myself sick! Whenever I see Savannah, I just want to run and jump into the nearest frozen lake. That's how bad I feel. But you just sit there and grin like there's not a problem in the world."

"Well you sure as hell don't seem guilty when we're fucking in the same sheets you used to fuck Sam on," he fired back. As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. That was horrible to say. It was cruel.

Not once in their five months had he been cruel to her.

Fury splashed across her face. Lifting her arm, she pointed to her bedroom door. "Get the hell out!" she hissed. "Get your clothes, and _leave!_"

Rising to his feet again, he tried to cup her face in his hands. "Baby, I'm sor —"

She shoved his hands away. "You want to treat me like a cheap slut, then fine!" she yelled, pushing him away. "Get out!"

Sighing, Derek slid his clothes on and left. This time he was forced to leave without a kiss goodbye.

XXXXX

Derek arrived at his home as the time crept towards midnight. Before heading to Penelope's, he thought to text Savannah to lie about having to work late once more. He expected her to already be in bed when he entered the house however, he found his wife sitting in the kitchen.

Savannah sat at the kitchen table, a cup of tea sitting in front of her. Her eyes sat focussed on the steam rising from the mug. When Derek opened the door, though, her eyes rose to find him. She stared at him, blinking slowly.

"Hey, honey," he murmured, setting his briefcase down on the countertop. "I didn't expect you to be up so late." He went to her side and placed a kiss on the top of her head. As his lips touched her hair though, he noticed his lips were stiff. It didn't feel natural to kiss Savannah anymore. He hoped his affair with Penelope would get his lust out of his system so he could become fiery for Savannah again.

That had yet to happen. All he wanted was Penelope.

"Where have you been?" she asked, her voice soft as a caress.

He shrugged. "Working," he lied. "We've got a case tomorrow, so I wanted to get everything done before I leave."

With her eyes remaining blank, Savannah looked up at him. Derek couldn't quite tell what hid behind her dark eyes, but there was something there. Her gaze pierced through him, and for a moment, it felt like she could see every lie he'd been telling her the last half a year.

"Derek, what's really going on?" she asked, sorrowful. "You disappear constantly, you're distant…we haven't had sex in nearly six months! What's going on with you?"

Rubbing his face, Derek kept his face neutral. "Honey, I told you," he mumbled, running his hand over his head. "I've got a lot of work on my plate right now. It isn't going to be easy, but it'll be done soon."

Tears filled Savannah's eyes, and all of the sudden Derek recalled Penelope accusation of him not feeling guilty. Right then, he felt a fierce streak of guilt course through him. _There _was the guilt Penelope had been searching for. The remaining anger in him at her made him desire to call and gloat that he'd found it.

The other part of him — the part he couldn't name yet — just wanted to run from Savannah so he could hide and drown in Penelope.

"I miss you, Derek," she whispered. "I miss my husband."

He stared at her blankly, words not coming to his mouth. He couldn't find them. They hid from him, not wanting to be found for Savannah.

_You could find them for Penelope, _a voice whispered n his head.

She bit her lip and shook her head. Wiping tears that began to stream down her face, she looked back up at him with bloodshot eyes. "Are you having an affair?" she asked. Her voice could barely be heard, and she wrapped her arms around herself as she waited for the answer. "Is there someone else?"

Derek, knowing he needed to keep his secret, shook his head vigorously. She was hurting enough; she didn't need the truth to break her anymore. "No," he insisted. "Not at all. Honey, I'm just busy as hell with work. I'm sorry I've been leaving you alone, but I promise you — _promise_ — that I will make this all up to you when this is over. We could go on a vacation."

With a stiff arm, he reached out and caressed her cheek. It didn't feel natural in any way, but he wanted to give Savannah some semblance of comfort.

Savannah rose to her feet and went towards him. Throwing her arms around his neck, she plastered her lips against his and kissed him.

Derek didn't know how to react. His muscles unconsciously tensed, and immediately his mind shot to Penelope. It felt like this kiss with Savannah was betraying Penelope in some way. It didn't even matter to him that he was thinking in reverse of how he should have been. Savannah's lips just weren't Penelope's.

"Make love to me, then," she whispered, moving back to look him directly in the eye. "I miss you so much." Her hands started to roam over his chest, searching for a way to arouse his passions.

Panicking, Derek's eyes grew wide as plates. Savannah's touch no longer aroused him. There would be no way they could have sex with his body not reacting to her.

Grasping her wrists, he shook his head. "Honey," he murmured. "I'm tired. I've been working all damn day and right now I just want to sleep."

His answer should have been, _I'm too damn tired from having three rounds of earth-shattering sex with my best friend._

Dropping her hands, Savannah bent her head and choked on a cry. Derek didn't know what to do; all he could do was stare at her, uncertain. Turning to go, Savannah nodded. "I want you back, Derek," she begged. "Just finish your work soon so I can have my husband back."

When Savannah disappeared out of the kitchen, Derek remained with his eyes trained on the floor. Now he felt horrible for what he'd been doing to Savannah. Even with her out of the room, though, part of her lingered with him. Her last statement rang in his ears.

Was she ever truly going to get him back?

XXXXX

Four months of fear.

Emily couldn't remember the last night of true sleep she got. Every day she went through a vicious cycle of terror that the people she loved wouldn't be kept safe. She would close her eyes for a moment before jerking awake with the realization she couldn't sleep. Many of the nights she was home she found herself pacing in front of Noah's bedroom door, guarding him like a watchmen over their castle.

Doyle's activities in the last four months could only be described as shadowy. She knew he was watching her, keeping her afraid of every threat that wasn't there. He sent her flowers, mementos from their years together, photos of what he planned to do to her.

He had yet to mention Noah or Aaron though, something Emily couldn't decide was good or bad. He could have been saving something worse for them. It also became clear he had no idea where Declan was.

So far, Emily's tactics for protecting her family were working.

While Doyle and his little messages showed his unsuccessful attempts at finding her son, she found herself nowhere closer to finding Declan either. Even with the expert help of Garcia she found herself no closer to finding the son she lost. After stealing Declan away from his father's estate with the help of his nanny, Emily sent them ahead to the States while she finished up the case against Ian Doyle.

When she returned, she found that Louise, Declan's nanny, had disappeared with her son. Emily had no idea where they went, what had become of them. She knew for a fact no one had harmed them; she would have found out from someone who would gloat at killing the son of Ian Doyle, someone who few knew about.

But it was his disappearance that kept her from having him, from raising him so he would know who she was. To protect him though, she took it as an opportunity to let Declan live a life without fear of his father's ghosts coming back for him.

From her front door, she heard a knock. Glancing at the clock, she smiled. It was six o'clock in the evening. Noah would be getting home soon. The team had returned from a case just that morning, and Aaron decided to pick up their son up so he could spend the day with him.

Rising from her couch, Emily padded across her living room to answer the door. When she opened it, she found Noah and Aaron standing on her porch. A grin spread across her face, and she knelt down to open her arms for her son.

"Mom!" Noah exclaimed, throwing his arms around his mother's neck to hug her tightly.

After doing nothing but thinking of Declan for the past few hours, Emily couldn't imagine anything greater than being able to hold one of her children in her arms. She closed her eyes and held Noah tightly, never wanting to let him go.

"Hey, buddy," she murmured, kissing the side of his head. "Did you have a good day with Dad?"

Noah moved back and grinned widely up at Aaron. "We had loads of fun," he said. "Dad picked me up from school, and then we went to the park and played baseball all afternoon."

Emily looked up at Aaron and gave him a nod. Since their tryst four months ago when they were supposed to plan Noah's birthday party, neither of them had an easy time looking one another in the eye. She knew she'd hurt him; she saw it in his eyes the moment they saw each other the day after sleeping together. She hated herself for doing this to him.

But neither of them spoke about it at all. Silence kept it in the dark, and for Emily, if she could keep quiet about it, it could be as if it never happened.

She would be lying though if she said she didn't continue to think about that night. His hands roaming her body stayed imprinted in her brain. Sometimes she swore she could still feel them dancing across her skin.

"Aaron," she said in greeting.

He nodded. "Hello, Emily." A guard stood before his voice, protecting him from any possible emotional curveballs she could throw his way.

She didn't blame him, but that didn't stop her gut from rolling with guilt. With all her heart she wished she could tell him what was going on, _why _she was acting the way she was…maybe even explain why she'd never been able to tell him anything during their marriage.

Protecting him was more important than having him know what was going on.

Rising from the ground, she kept her hands on Noah's shoulders. She cocked her head at Hotch. "Do we have a case tomorrow?" she asked.

Sighing deeply, Aaron nodded. "Unfortunately," he said. "We're headed to Michigan."

"Aww, you guys are leaving _again_?" Noah asked, pouting his lips.

Emily looked away from Aaron and down at their son. She ruffled his hair. "I know, bud," she said. "But we'll be back sooner than you know it. And tonight I was planning on ordering us a pizza."

Immediately, Noah's expression brightened. "No healthy food?" he yelped, excited.

She chewed her lip, attempting not to laugh. "Uh, no," she said, dashing the hopes of her son. "We'll be making something with veggies. But we can still get the pizza."

Noah heaved a heavy sigh. "Fine," he huffed.

Emily looked back up at Aaron. He smiled at Noah, but as soon as he felt her eyes on him, his smile fell from his face. Coughing, he tilted his head toward the driveway.

"Well, er, I'm going to get going," he said, his voice terse. Looking back at his son, Aaron's face widened with a smile once again. "Come give me a hug before I leave, bud."

Noah walked toward Aaron and wrapped his arms around his waist. "I love you, Dad," he said.

"Love you, too, bud," he murmured, planting a kiss on the top of Noah's head.

Breaking out of his father's arms, Noah made his way for the door once more. He looked up at his mother and grinned. "I'm gonna go look at the pizza menu!" he chirped, disappearing inside.

Emily and Aaron were left staring at one another in an uncomfortable silence. Once their eyes met, they held one another's gaze. His dark ones held a connection with hers, and instantly she felt a shiver run up her spine.

_How is it only _he _can make me feel this way_? she asked herself.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow," she murmured after several moments. She gave him a small smile, attempting to make a joke. "Wheels up, right?"

Aaron just nodded. "Yeah," he muttered, turning to go without a word.

Emily watched him walk to his car, get in, and leave. Sighing just like Noah would, she went back inside to find her son. She found him sitting at the kitchen table on his tablet, scrolling through his tablet on an online pizza menu. Plopping down next to him, she kissed the top of his head.

"What're you thinking for pizza, dude?" Emily asked, looking over his shoulder to see what he was looking at.

Noah grinned. "Pepperoni," he said. "And garlic knots!"

Laughing, Emily ruffled his hair again. "Who would've known?" she joked.

As Noah scrolled through the menu, Emily watched him. Here in front of her sat a boy she would die for, and somewhere out there in the world was a brother he didn't even know he had. With all of Doyle's messages and scare tactics, she wanted to soak in every image of her child she could. As past experience with Declan told her, she could never be sure when that last image would be.

That evening, as she was putting a sleepy Noah to bed, a thought formed in her head. She didn't know how this would end with Doyle. All she knew was her nemesis wouldn't be harming Noah and Aaron.

What she didn't know was what would happen to her at the end of all of this.

XXXXX

Emily knocked on Garcia's door, her knuckles rapping lightly against the wood. The team was back from their four day case in the small town of Lowell, Michigan, and Emily hadn't heard from her perky technical analyst friend about any of her progress finding Declan.

"Unless it's Morgan, you can come in!" Penelope's voice called.

_Thank God I'm not Morgan, _Emily thought as she pushed the door open. Penelope sounded more pissed than she had in a long time. Emily had no idea what was going on with Penelope and Morgan that had them in the fight of the decade, but she didn't have time to care.

Emily entered Garcia's office to find her typing away angrily at the computer. Penelope's face sat scrunched up, a deep frown plastered across her features. She looked ready to commit murder over someone spilling coffee on her operating systems.

Arching a brow, she went to sit on the desk so she could see Penelope's face. Fury blazed behind her pink and red glasses, and it seemed as if she were on the verge of tears.

"Garcie?" Emily murmured.

"Huh?" Penelope snapped, typing away.

"What're you so pissed about?" Emily asked. Part of her wanted to jump right in and demand any information on Declan Garcia could offer. But she knew if she wanted it and wanted it properly, she needed to calm her seething friend.

Penelope's face broke when she looked up at Emily, but her tears remained at bay. "Nothing," she muttered with a pout. A stern look from Emily made her roll her eyes and huff. "Morgan and I are having a fight." She hung her head like her admission made her weak.

Giving Penelope's shoulder a squeeze, Emily forced herself to remain understanding, even though her brain was screaming to ask about the progress finding Declan. "You wanna talk about it?"

Lower lip trembling, Penelope shook her head. "I'm just pissed at him," she muttered. "He said something horrible to me, and then…" She clamped her mouth shut and shook her head. "No. No, I don't want to talk about that jerk bucket. It'll only make me more upset!"

Emily arched a brow. She thought back to Morgan's behavior the last few days while they'd been away in Michigan. He'd been moody, snapping at everyone like an alligator getting irritated by someone poking him with a stick. Aaron even sent him back to the hotel early when it appeared as though Morgan was going to tackle the unsub in the interrogation room.

"You wanna tell me what he said to you?" Emily asked, patient as she could.

"No," Penelope stated firmly. "I'm just…" Her voice trailed off. An unbelievably sad look entered her eyes, and she shook her head. "I'm just not going to talk about him." She spoke the last sentence with a note of finality. Wiping her eyes despite the fact they were dry, she nodded. "What's up, Emily?"

Without another thought, Emily jumped right in. "I need to know if you've found anything since our last weekly meeting," she demanded. "Anything at all."

Penelope sighed. "Black Beauty, the answer is the same as it was last week," she said. "I've done —"

A flash of irritation sparked through Emily. "Garcia, how can you find so many different things about every damn unsub in the country, but you can't find _anything _on a single boy?" she snapped.

Seeing the shift in Emily's behavior, Garcia frowned. She remained silent for a long moment, watching to see if Emily would make another move. Emily saw her friend couldn't quite see what to make of her. "Emily, who _is _this boy?" she asked in wonder. "We've been looking for him for months now. If I can't find him now, I don't know how I'll find him later. Everything we've been doing isn't working."

"Who he is is my business," Emily said. "Right now, I just need you to find him."

"And right now I'm telling you we need to think about giving up on someone who won't be found," Penelope argued back.

Fists clenching into tight balls, Emily growled through gritted teeth, "Garcia, when someone is important to you, you will do _anything_ to be with them. So that's why I need you to keep helping me. I need to find this boy."

Penelope blinked several times, her expression softening. "Emily, please tell me who he is," she pleaded. "It might help me find him."

"If I tell you that information, it could put you in danger," Emily explained. "And I won't do that to you. I just need your help to find him. You're safer with the less you know."

Staring at her for a moment, Penelope nodded slowly. "I'll do whatever I can to find him," she murmured. "I promise."

Moving away from the desk, Emily moved to Penelope and hugged her. "Thank you," she murmured in her ear. "I really need this."

Penelope hugged her back. "I don't know who this is to you, but he must be important," she said. "So now he's important to me."

Even those small words, even know Penelope would never understand Declan's importance, Emily still took comfort in hearing her words.

And for a split second, she felt like maybe she wasn't alone.


	11. Four Months of Hurt - Fitting Meltdown

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Hey, guys! I****'****m so sorry I****'****m neglecting getting these out on time. My reading load really got upped this semester. Here is the new installment where we****'****ll finally hear from Hotch after that months-long gap. I hope you****'****ll enjoy :) FanFiction has been my destress tool of late, so when I get your reviews it makes me feel good!**

Four months of hurt.

Aaron couldn't remember the last time he felt emotional pain this deep. After waking up all those months ago to an empty bed, something in him died. Sleeping with Emily always awoke a fire within him, and after having been deprived of that fire for years, he felt a level of livelihood he didn't remember he possessed.

After that night, he didn't quite know why he expected anything to change between them. The next day he saw her after their tryst, she made no move to acknowledge him in any way other than a professional relationship.

And he just went with the flow.

As he sat within his office before his briefing, Aaron's eyes drifted to the photo on his desk of himself and Noah together. His son really did look exactly like him. He had the same facial features, the same hair, the same jawline. What he didn't have, though, was his eyes.

Those came directly from Emily.

Looking into his son's eyes was always going to be eerie to him in some way.

As his eyes drifted away from the photo, he caught sight of Emily herself rising from her desk to get ready to go to the round table room for the meeting. She still bore the look of someone in desperate need of sleep. Her nails still appeared bitten to shreds.

He wanted nothing more than to find a way to help her. She just wouldn't allow him to.

Rising from his seat with a sigh, he gathered his tablet and files to start the walk to the round table room. Thinking about his situation with Emily would have to come later. The team had yet another case, making this the second one this week.

Thank God this one is just in Maryland, he thought. Hopefully he and Emily would be home soon enough to see Noah's upcoming school play.

When he reached the round table room, he found it oddly quiet. Reid and JJ were mumbling something to one another while Rossi read something on his tablet. Emily, of course, sat by herself, as she had been for the last few months. What he found most puzzling was Morgan and Garcia.

They sat as far from one another as they could possibly sit, and when their eyes met both of them quickly looked away. Aaron knew they'd had a fight during their last case, but he never would have thought it would still be going on. If he remembered to after the briefing, he would have to observe them more closely to figure out what was wrong with them.

"Alright, let's get started," he mumbled, sitting down beside Rossi. He nodded to Garcia. "Go ahead, Garcia."

Oddly silent, Garcia rose to her feet and started the screen rolling. She picked up her tablet to read the details. "Two men," she began, "have been found killed in Annapolis. Both of them were found in the same park in the center of the city. Each of them had ligature marks on their wrists and ankles…" Her voice trailed off as she glanced back at the screen. Aaron noted how hard she swallowed hard when she saw the crime scene photos.

Arching a brow, Aaron asked, "Garcia, are you alright?"

"Yes, sir," she managed, moving forward with the slide show. She swallowed hard. "Local PD says it looks like they've been kept for a few days, but what makes them think these cases are connected are the —" She paused to change the photo. " — the…the lack of their hearts." Pictures of both victims appeared on the screen, each of their chest cavities open and empty in the space where their hearts should have been.

By now Garcia's face seemed to have taken on a green tint. Dropping her tablet on the table, she dashed across the room to the trashcan. The sound of retching filled the room, and everyone sat straight up with concern. Emily leapt from her seat in an instant to rush to Penelope's side.

Aaron watched as Emily moved Garcia's hair back from her face to hold it for her. As Garcia straightened up, Emily placed an arm around her. He saw a look pass between Penelope and Emily, a look that showed the two of them were communicating without words.

What they were saying, though, he couldn't tell.

He watched as Emily guided Garcia back to her seat. As she helped her friend back to her chair, there was a friendliness in Emily's touch that Aaron hadn't seen in several months. What was happening that she would allow Garcia in, but no one else?

"Guys, I'm sorry," Penelope grumbled as she sat down unsteadily. "Those photos were just a bit…" She didn't even finish; she could only shudder as she moved the screen from the photos. "Those are on your tablets."

"Are you going to be okay, Garcia?" Aaron asked. "Do you need me to get Anderson to drive you home?"

Garcia shook her head. "Nope," she muttered. "I am just fine. Let's finish this up."

After Garcia finished getting through the details of the case, Aaron nodded to everyone and rose to his feet. "Wheels up in thirty," he mumbled. Directing his attention to Garcia once more, he added, "Garcia, if you need to get Kevin Lynch to replace you, just —"

She shook her head. "No," she said, sterner than she normally would. "I'll be fine, I'll just look away from crime scene photos, and keep a trashcan close by for if I have to look at them."

With a skeptical nod, Aaron started for his office to gather his things. As he pulled his go-bag up onto his desk, a knock sounded from his door. He glanced up and found Rossi standing there, arms crossed over his chest. A thoughtful expression rested on his face, and it looked as if there were words sitting on the tip of his tongue.

"What is it, Dave?" he asked, stuffing a file into the first pocket of his duffel bag. "You look like you have something to say."

"I'm just wondering if you're noticing what is happening in your team," Rossi mused, entering the office and closing the door behind him.

Aaron rolled his eyes. "Rossi, I know we're profilers, but right now I'm not interested in having to read between the lines to figure out what you're saying," he muttered.

"There are four members of this team who are having issues that I'm worried will start having an affect on how we do our jobs," Rossi said. He went to stand behind one of the chairs in front of Aaron's desk.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Aaron grumbled, even though he knew half of what his friend was talking about. He knew full well Rossi would notice his observations of Emily. Hell, Rossi probably even knew about the sex from four months ago.

Rossi fixed Aaron with an amused smirk. "You know I'm talking about you and Emily," he lectured. "You've been concerned about her for months, and she's been running away from you. We've all noticed something is going on with her." He arched a brow. "I don't know why you'd think you can get her to tell you. She would keep her mouth shut tighter than some of the jars my wives would bring me to open for them. You should know that better than anyone."

"I'm not in the mood for a seminar on how to deal with Emily Prentiss, Dave," Aaron growled in annoyance.

"Oh, I know you're not," Rossi said. "You could probably write the book on her. But that's not necessarily why I need to talk to you."

Aaron crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine, then what is it?"

"You and Emily, Morgan and Garcia," Rossi answered.

That floored Aaron. "What's going on with Morgan and Garcia that you think they can't do their jobs? I know they've been having a fight of some kind, but I don't see their jobs being affected by it."

"You're not seeing it because you're too focussed on Emily," Rossi said. "But there's something going on with the two of them. Penelope getting sick this morning? His reaction was like he couldn't decide if he wanted to go to her or not. If something wasn't going on with them, I don't believe he would do that."

"What are you getting at?" Aaron asked.

Rossi shrugged. "I just think that what we need to see is that this team is experiencing some tension that we need to keep an eye on…otherwise it will tear you four up."

Aaron frowned. He knew that if Rossi was bringing him something, then he needed to listen. He just didn't know how how he could take the words to heart if he couldn't identify the behaviors his friend was talking about.

What use am I as a profiler if I can't even see tension between two best friends? he thought bitterly as he and Rossi got ready to leave his office.

XXXXX

"I'm so glad you guys got back before this, even if JJ had that self defense class to teach," Penelope breathed as she and Emily walked toward the doors of the dress shop. "I was surprised we were able to reschedule, too."

Today she had a dress fitting for her wedding, and she didn't think she would have been able to go in alone. Even if she and Derek hadn't slept with one another in nearly a week and a half — hell, they had hardly spoken — she couldn't decide how she felt about stepping into a dress that she was going to marry another man in.

Rubbing Penelope's shoulder, Emily nodded. "Of course they would," she said. "After you got sick last week, they wouldn't want the bride vomiting while trying her dress on."

Penelope groaned. "God, I still can't believe I got sick in the round table room!"

"Have you been feeling better?" Emily asked.

"If by better you mean not throwing up in the middle of briefings, then yes," Penelope grumbled. "But I think I'm getting a bug of something. I'm feeling nauseous a lot." Before Emily could speak again, she jumped back in. "Oh, and I have some news! I got a ping in the search I did last night."

Abruptly, Emily halted in the middle of the sidewalk. Her eyes went wide, and she pulled Penelope from the center of the sidewalk to the entrance of an alley. Penelope, confused, followed her without hesitation.

"Emily? Are you okay?" she asked.

"What did you find?" Emily demanded, her voice lower.

Brow furrowing, Penelope shook her head. "It wasn't much," she admitted. Seeing that her friend wouldn't lose her intensity until she knew what information lay in store for her. "Based on the description of the boy and of the woman traveling with him, I managed to find a mother and a son who entered a New York City emergency room four years ago."

"Why did they go in?" Emily gasped. Her eyes went wide, frantic as her nails dug into the backs of Penelope's hand. "Was he hurt?"

Penelope barely managed to give Emily's hand a squeeze through her friend's tight grip. "No, no," she assured her. "Declan wasn't hurt. He only went in with his mother. She just had a hand injury. According to the medical report, she needed about five stitches."

Emily rubbed her temples as a gust of chilly February air blew through her hair. "This was only four years ago," she murmured. "Did you find out what happened to them after that?"

Biting her lip, Penelope shook her head. "They dropped off the radar again after that," she said. "I'm sorry."

Her friend stayed silent for a moment, but when she looked at Penelope once more, a small smile covered Emily's face. "Don't be," she said, her expression changing drastically. "Let's go get your dress tried on so we can go back to work."

Nervously, Penelope smiled and allowed Emily to lead her toward the dress shop. She didn't know how she would feel once her dress was on her body. Sam and she had paid for this dress she was about to put on. But it wasn't Sam whose hands had been roaming her body the past months. Would the dress even fit right after this?

_Maybe you should paint a bright red A across it to make it more fitting_, a snakelike voice whispered in her head.

Opening the door for Emily, Penelope followed her into the shop. The middle-aged woman, Kara, at the front stood behind a desk, looking through a list on a computer. She looked up over glasses at Emily and Penelope, a grin spreading across her face.

"Why, Penelope!" she cried, excitedly. "It's so good to see you. I'm glad we were able to fit you in today." She smiled and went around the desk. "I have your dress all ready for you to try on." Gazing at Emily, she added with a twinkling laugh, "And who is this? Your handsome man of honor didn't get thrown from the wedding party, did he?"

Penelope's breath caught in her chest at the thought of Derek. Swallowing hard, she shook her head and smiled. "No, he just had to work," she said. "This is my friend, Emily. She's another bridesmaid." Even as she spoke the words, her heart tore itself into shreds inside. Even talk about Derek made her heartsick. She wanted him back right now, back so she could throw herself in his arms and not have to think about anything but how she felt with him.

Kara sighed. "Well, damn. There's a goodbye to my eye candy for the day."

Emily, seeing Penelope had gone quiet, spoke up. "Where's the dress at?" she asked.

Snapping her fingers, Kara motioned for the girls to follow her. "Yes, of course," she said. "This way. The dress is in the back. You two just wait here while I fetch it." She motioned to the seats in front of the dressing area.

Once Kara was gone, Penelope sat down on the leather ottomans. Her spirit felt dejected, and it weighed her down to a sitting position.

"PG, are you okay?" Emily murmured, sitting beside her. "You look like you're going to be sick again." She placed a hand on her back and rubbed it comfortingly.

Even that didn't make her feel better, though. All she could think of was Derek, to the point her eyes burned with unshed tears. Breathing as evenly as she could, she gave Emily a shaky smile. "Oh, I'm okay," she chirped. "Just nervous about seeing myself in the dress." She gave a sharp laugh. "I'm afraid I'm gonna see myself in it and cry because I miss Sam so much."

Emily gave her a look. "Bullshit," she said. "That's not what this is." She eyed Penelope carefully, trying to profile any part of her she could. "This has nothing to do with Sam, this has to do with your fight with Derek."

"I don't want to talk about that," Penelope grumbled, looking away anxiously. She knew if she looked at Emily while saying this, her secrets would come crawling out. Emily would be able to tell immediately that something like an affair was amiss.

"Why not?" Emily demanded. "Talking about it will do you some good." When Penelope didn't respond, Emily went on with a softer voice. "What happened with you two that you don't want to tell me?"

Finally looking over at her friend, Penelope shook her head. "Emily, you asked me not to push you on who that boy was," she began with a croak, "so now I'm asking you not to ask me about this." She hoped her eyes begged well enough that Emily would drop the issue.

Emily studied her carefully, but as requested, didn't push it. Before either of them could say anything else, Kara returned with Penelope's dress. This sight of the white gown made her stomach churn wildly. A flash of Derek, so vivid she could practically smell his cologne in her nostrils, shot through her brain, and instantly she wanted to run away to Timbuktu.

"Let's help you into this, dear," Kara gushed, unzipping the bag the dress resided in.

Rising unsteadily, Penelope allowed the shop owner and Emily to help get her into the dress. As Kara began to zip it up, she stopped abruptly. "Hmm," she muttered, going for the zipper again.

"What is it?" Penelope asked, turning her neck slightly to see behind her.

"It looks like your dress is a bit tighter in your belly area," Kara said as she worked the zipper. Before Penelope could groan about the weight she'd somehow gained, the dress shop owner got the zipper to go all the way up. "Oh, look at that I go it!" She finished sealing the hooks. "I'll have to fix that a little bit so we don't have that issue again."

Emily whistled. "Wow, Garcie," she said. "You need to check yourself out in the mirror. You look incredible."

Taking a deep breath and trying to banish Derek from her mind, Penelope turned to look at herself in the mirror. Her dress made her look like Cinderella, the skirt of the gown fanned out all around her. The dress hugged her curves so her figure looked voluptuous and lush in the satin. She really did look beautiful.

But at the same time when she saw herself, she couldn't help but see a monster. Who had she become? She'd cheated on her fiancé, she'd betrayed a woman she considered a friend, she'd lied to people.

Right now, the only thing she could think to make her feel better was Derek and the comfort that came from being in his arms. She wanted to hear his voice in her ear, whispering that he was there for her. His face swam in her brain, a piece of forbidden fruit a snake was tempting her to reach for. She wanted it even though she knew it was wrong.

The tears burning behind her eyes came to the forefront and began to creep down her cheeks. Choking on a sob, she looked down at the dress and buried her face in her hands, unable to look at herself anymore.

_I need Derek_, she thought. _He's all I need._

XXXXX

After her breakdown in the dress shop, Penelope requested that Emily take her back to the BAU where she could return to her office and hide out. She stayed there to do her work for the rest of the day, but now that the work hours were over, she had no plans other than to go home and bury her face in a pillow to cry more.

Locking the door to her office, she sighed unsteadily and started for the elevators. Everything inside her wanted to crumble to a pile of dust after her whole afternoon of longing for Derek. She hated feeling this way, feeling weak both physically and mentally. Half of her wanted to drown her sorrows in a bottle of wine, but as sick as she was feeling lately, she didn't think she could handle it.

Get it together, Garcia, she scolded herself. You have a call with Sam tomorrow, you need to be calm and not a hysterical mess.

Up ahead she heard the sounds of the elevator bell and the doors opening. Quickening her pace, she hurried down the hall so she could catch the ride down.

When she came into view of the elevators, she halted abruptly. Getting into the elevator was none other than Derek. And he looked just like she felt: horrible. He stood in the elevator car, his eyes glued to the floor. When he heard her voice, he looked up to find the source. His eyes went wide as the doors started to close.

"Derek!" she called, her voice coming out like a strangled croak.

Derek's hands shot toward the doors, but before he could stop them, they shut completely. Halting in front of the now-closed elevator, Penelope stomped her foot. Tears burned at the back of her eyes for the second time that day.

Shaking her head, Penelope wiped her eyes and darted for the doors to the stairs. She needed Derek, and she needed him now.

So she was going to do the only thing she could think of: she was going to go get him.


	12. Reconciliation - A Visit From Clyde

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thank you so much for all the reviews, everyone. I know there was a guest reviewer who mentioned not being happy with the direction of the Morgan/Garcia line, but that****'****s just how I****'****m taking it and that won****'****t be changing. Here****'****s the next one, all girls****' ****POV; however the focus is mainly on Emily. Hope y****'****all will like it :)**

Penelope dashed down the stairwell as fast as her high heels would allow her to go. Tears continued to burn the back of her eyes, and she hoped to whatever higher power there was Derek wouldn't leave before she could get to him.

As she made her way down the seven flights of stairs though, she began to realize she wasn't going to make it down in her heels. Stopping in the middle of one of the stairs, she yanked her shoes off and shoved them into her bag. She didn't care she would be going down barefoot; she just needed to get down these damn stairs.

Without the shoes, she managed to get down the stairwell much faster. Her heart beat like a bass drum in her ribcage, so hard she could hear the thumping against her eardrums. When she'd seen him at the elevators, he looked like he wanted to see her as badly as she wanted to see him. Maybe she'd been seeing things, maybe she hadn't been.

Either way, she wanted to see him with her own eyes, hear what he wanted and if what he wanted was still her. She wanted to beat her fists against his chest and yell at how his words had hurt her; then she wanted him to take her in his arms and kiss her. She felt so consumed with guilt for betraying Sam and Savannah and her fierce need for Derek.

Not want, not desire, but _need_.

When she reached the garage level, she burst through the door into the parking lot. Looking around wildly, she peered through the dimly lit garage for where Derek might be. Here she was, standing in the Quantico parking lot, her feet bare against the asphalt, and the man she was looking for was somewhere in here. So far, she couldn't find him.

All of the sudden though, she heard the sound of a car being unlocked. She saw the lights blinking down the line of cars she stood in. She dashed forward to get to the SUV it came from. She knew — an instinct engrained in the back of her brain told her — it was Derek.

Hurrying along to the car that beeped, she skidded to a halt at the left taillight of the familiar SUV. Her gaze shot to the driver's seat where Derek was putting his briefcase inside. He caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye and turned to look at her, shocked.

"Penelope?" he murmured. His voice sounded hesitant, like he didn't know how she would react to hearing her name from his lips.

Setting her bag down beside the back tire, she strode forward, her feet still bare. She stopped in front of him, her heart pounding wildly in her ribcage. Tears burned behind her eyes — when didn't they these days? — but she forced them to stay inside. She didn't know how successful she would be keeping them caged, but while their gazes were locked she wanted dry eyes.

"Penel —"

She held up her finger sharply. "No," she said, gathering her courage. "You're going to listen to me." She waited to be sure he would keep his lips clamped shut. When she was satisfied with his silence, she went on. "You hurt me with what you said, Derek. You really did. What makes it worse is it sounded like you were blaming just me for…_this_! Yeah, I'm hurting Sam, but you're hurting Savannah just as much."

A tear trickled down her cheek against her will, and he tried to go to her. She wasn't done. "I would never hurt you like that, and when you said that…" Her voice trailed off, and she bent her head to swallow hard. Squaring her shoulders, she straightened her back so she stood at her full height. "The only time I'm feeling good is when I'm with you," she admitted. "When you said that, it made me feel like the whole world had fallen in on me."

Derek blinked at her several times. Penelope feared for a moment he was about to open his mouth and reject her. Instead though, he went forward to her and cupped her face gently in his hands. His skin was warm as a beam of sunlight against her face; part of her nearly fell to the ground in a puddle. He caressed her hair back behind her ear. His dark eyes bored into hers.

"I'm so sorry, Baby Girl," he murmured, running his thumb over her cheekbone. In the process, he wiped away a tear that fell from her eye. "I _never _should've said that to you."

Sniffling, she brought one of her hands up to grasp his wrist. Fierce emotions, uncontrollable and untamed, filled her gut. When she looked into his eyes, all she felt was warmth and adoration. And a plea for forgiveness. He was earnest in his apology. When she looked at him like this, something stirred inside her. She saw something there she'd never seen in another man's eyes. A spark lit up inside her. It was small, but it burned there with a steady glow that refused to be snuffed out.

Was she falling in love with him? Were all of these events — the uncontrollable tears, the only feelings of happiness occurring around him, even the feelings of guilt — signs she had fallen in love with her best friend?

"What you said," she murmured, "about still needing me?"

He kissed her forehead and nodded. "Yeah?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a fiery kiss. His lips against hers after so long apart tasted like the most decadent spice she could imagine. Their tongues tangled together, and when she broke the kiss, she rested her forehead against his.

"I still need you, too," she whispered. "I don't know what's going on with me, but I know I need your support. I'm so guilty I can't breath, but when I'm with you…I feel…._happy_. And I need to find that happiness again with Sam before we get married, so I need your help now more than ever."

Something flashed in his eyes she couldn't read, but it left as quickly as it appeared. Leaning down, he kissed her softly, his lips just barely brushing against hers. "I need you in the same way," he whispered. "We'll get this right. Then we can go back to being our normal selves."

She arched a brow. "Will we, though?" she asked. "Will we ever be normal after this?"

He shrugged. "I think so." And then he pulled her flush against him once more and wrapped her in a kiss so passionate it sent tingles through the whole of her body.

Penelope kissed him back just as fiercely. They stood there, wrapped in one another's arms with no intention of leaving. But after a few moments though, she broke the kiss and rested her forehead against his.

"We…need to get out of here," she whispered.

Derek chortled a laugh. "Why wait, Baby Girl?" he said, lowering his voice to a seductive tone. "I can't wait for you. And we've got a perfectly good backseat right here."

Grinning, Penelope nodded. "Let's get in there then," she whispered, opening the door and pulling him in by his jacket collar.

XXXXX

"Have you found out anything about his movements through Europe?" Emily asked Tsia over the phone while sitting in her car. Since Jeremy's death four months ago, Tsia had come back to the States and was living under the radar in DC. She and Emily spoke every week on a secure line to find out if there were any developments in finding out where Ian Doyle was.

"Clyde called me to say Doyle was allegedly spotted going into Brussels," Tsia said. She sounded exhausted. Emily didn't blame her; neither of them were getting any sleep.

Emily bit her thumb nail. "How long ago was he seen there?"

Tsia's breath seemed to catch in her chest before she spoke next. "This was two days ago," she muttered. "What is he _doing_? Why hasn't he come after the rest of us yet? Why just Jeremy?" There was a twinge of pain in her voice, and Emily felt a twinge of pain for her friend's loss.

"Doyle's grown bitter in prison," Emily returned. "He wants to drag this out, to scare us."

_He wants to test the waters to see if he can find Declan_, she added silently to herself. She needed to keep her mouth closed about Declan around Tsia. After she called Sean to tell him about her pregnancy twelve long years ago, he had kept it quiet, even within their own team. Telling Tsia about Declan with Doyle after them all would only put her son at risk, whether or not Tsia knew where Declan was.

"If he finds us, he's not going to hold back anything," Tsia grumbled.

"_When_ he finds us, we'll be ready," Emily vowed. "I'm not holding anything back either."

"Have you thought about asking your team to help us?" Tsia asked. "Have you told your ex-husband?"

Emily's eyes narrowed, even though Tsia wasn't there to see her. "No," she said, her voice hard as iron.

"Emily, they could help," Tsia insisted. "I'm almost positive Aaron wouldn't want anything happening to you."

"I'm not bringing them in," Emily snapped. She chose to ignore Tsia's comment about Aaron. Tsia had never even met Aaron, so she wouldn't know how he reacted to situations. And Emily was positive Aaron wouldn't truly care after the way she'd left him the next morning. "I'm not putting them in danger."

_You__'__ve already put Garcia in danger, though, _an internal voice reminded her.

Tsia relented. "Alright," she said. "But you have a someone to protect. You have to play things more carefully."

"Trust me, I'm not unaware of that," Emily snapped. "I spend most nights patrolling around my house to make sure Doyle doesn't have anyone keeping an eye on me."

"And have you found anyone?" Tsia asked.

Emily sighed gratefully. "No, thank God. I'm hoping he's waiting to call in the calvary until he gets here himself. Then we can take them out all at once." As she sat in her car, she sighed. "I need to go. I have to get back to work."

"Stay safe," Tsia murmured, repeating the words they said to one another each time they hung up.

Emily didn't respond as she set the phone into her glove compartment. Groaning, she closed her eyes and laid her head back against the car seat. So Doyle was making his way west across Europe. His purposeful delay in getting to DC told her she would be facing an extremely vengeful version of the man she'd once posed herself to love.

Rubbing her forehead, she opened the door and got out of the car. She told the BAU she had gone to lunch on her own, but in reality she'd sat in her car to talk with Tsia. After Garcia's revelation to her three days ago at the dress shop that Declan and Louise had appeared in a New York City emergency room, she could think of nothing else. Was he still in New York? She'd been there for cases several time.

Had she really been so close to him?

Shutting her car door and locking it up, she shouldered her bag and started for the elevators. As she walked though, her heels clicking along the asphalt, her senses began to tingle with the sense someone was watching her. She halted and whirled around, looking down the rows of cars. Her eyes narrowed. She heard no sound, but she knew her gut feeling. She _knew _someone was here.

"Don't be shy," she called, her voice frigid as ice. She moved out of the range of any video camera in the garage. Whoever was watching her would not want to risk being caught on tape. "Come on out."

After no more than five seconds, a figure appeared from behind an SUV. "It's good to see you haven't lost your gut feelings while in a cushy job with the FBI."

Emily's jaw would have dropped, but she knew better. "Clyde," she said in greeting. "When did you get in?"

Clyde Easter shrugged and strode forward to meet her face to face. "I came in on an early morning flight," he said, eyes scanning the garage.

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't have something important to tell me," she observed. "So what is it?"

Clyde wasted no time in getting to his point. "It's Sean," he said in a low voice. "He and his family were murdered in Brussels."

This time Emily's mouth did drop. "Sean's dead?" she whispered, her voice coming out like it was grating against coarse granite. So this was why the last spot Doyle had been spotted was Brussels. Tears burned the back of her eyes, but like all her tears, she held them in.

"Yes," Clyde repeated. "And we all know who did it."

Emily's fists clenched into tight balls. "Doyle," she spat. The desire for vengeance raced through her veins, and she bent her head. Sean's death and Doyle's movement west only meant one thing. "He's coming here next." She looked back up at Clyde.

"Oh, most certainly," he muttered. "Doyle's been scaring you for months, but now he's ready. With you, Tsia, and I here — and Sean and Jeremy dead — we're going to be having the final stand here. He won't wait much longer."

"He has to find a way into the country somehow, though," Emily pointed out.

Clyde shot her a sardonic look. "You know he'll find a way," he lectured. "He wants something, and he's waited years to get it."

"He won't kill any of us," she said. "We're ready and waiting for him."

Fixing her with yet another look, Clyde shook his head. "Enough lying, Emily," he growled. His eyes flashed, and Emily was reminded of who she was standing in front of. He may have been her partner once, but he was also a spy, through and through.

She frowned, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about," he said. "Or rather, _who_."

Emily stayed silent for a long moment. The second "who" left Clyde's lips, she realized he knew. He knew about Doyle's son…about _her _son.

"How did you find out?" she asked after a long staring match between her and her former team leader. "Sean and I managed to keep anyone from knowing."

Clyde let out a bitter laugh. "Darling, _please_," he chuckled. "Did you really think I wouldn't figure it out?" She didn't respond, so he continued on. "When things began to take longer than they should have, and Doyle moved you to a secluded area in Italy, I figured something must have been going on. Doyle had certainly fallen in love with you, but I couldn't be sure until Sean began keeping photos of you out of reports."

"Sean knew that if anyone in any organization — like Interpol — knew about Declan, they would use him against Doyle," she hissed. "I wouldn't allow my son to have to live like that."

"And what about your son growing up without his mother?" Clyde challenged. "You submitted him to that."

With a tight voice, Emily growled, "It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Louise got lost."

"If I know you — and trust me, darling, I do — you're working to find him so you can find a way to protect him."

Emily didn't say anything for a long time. She stared at Clyde. "You don't focus on Declan," she ordered finally. "Just help me fight against Doyle."

Striding forward, Clyde put his hands on her shoulders and nodded. His expression softened. "Count on it," he said. "We'll take him out before he can hurt you, your team, and your sons."

Emily nodded, grateful. "Any time you hear anything," she murmured, "tell me. I need to keep Noah and Declan safe."

Clyde nodded. "And you will," he promised.


End file.
